


Finding Us

by DawnsEternalLight



Series: The Bonds that Tie [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Acceptance, Angst, Batman - Freeform, Belonging, Bonding, Brothers, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Case Fic, Cry with me about Tim, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm trying to tag better, Mystery, No Slash, Sibling Bonding, Siblings, Sisters, Stalker, Tim and Jason are going to ruin me and you too by proxy, kind of, mob, more tags with updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:38:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9798872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: This is a sequel to Losing You.Family. Home. Belonging. These are words Jason Todd never thought he'd apply to himself again. Not after dying or after coming back furious and hurt. Somehow he's found himself pulled back into the Wayne family.  Even so, can he really be sure he's found a home again?Family. Home. Belonging. These are words Tim thought he could count on. Words he thought applied to him. Except Jason was back. Tim had always known his place in the family. He was there to keep them together after Jason died and came back on the wrong side of the law. So now that he was coming back into the family, where did that leave Tim?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to Losing You. I'd suggest you read it first, but you could start here if you'd like. 
> 
> Thanks everyone who is returning to this series, and hello to everyone new. The focus of this fic will be on Jason and Tim. I'm really excited to share this with you all, and I hope you enjoy what I have in store.

If asked a month earlier if he’d ever consider staying at the manor long term again Jason would have scoffed, given the asker a piece of his mind, and stomped off. At least that’s how he’d rehearsed the situation a million times. Now that Jason actually found himself spending more and more time at the manor he was beginning to reconsider.

He put most of the blame for his current change in familial status on Damian. He’d fully expected the kid to ditch him the moment Dick got his memories back. Instead, his youngest brother had seemed all the more eager to keep him around.

Jason grinned as he remembered the angry way Damian had stomped into his room a few days after they’d finished with Mindbender. He’d thrust his copy of The Princess Bride into Jason’s face and had demanded to know why Jason had tried to return it, when they hadn’t finished it yet. Then, on noticing the packed bag on his bed, had declared that Jason could not leave yet and had started unpacking the bag himself.

Said brother was currently curled into his right side on the couch in the manor’s screening room, flipping absently through his book while Dick fiddled with the television in front of them, trying to find the right input to view a DVD on. Jason had been surprised when Damian had inched his way over to his side after sitting down, though at this point he shouldn’t have been.

As clingy as Damian had been to Dick in the weeks following Mindbender’s capture, Damian had been almost as attached to Jason. He was quickly learning that affection once gained from his baby brother was not easily lost. Even when his favorite brother was so recently returned to him.

“Grayson, when will you be done? Any longer and we might as well leave for patrol.” Damian grumbled as he snapped his book closed. Jason felt a sudden wave of cold where Damian had been as the boy leaned away from him long enough to drop the book on the side table. Then his warmth was back, closing the cold spot.

“Just a sec, Lil’ D. It’s been forever since I’ve used this thing.” Dick said.

On Jason’s left Tim reclined with a bowl of popcorn, his elbow meeting Jason’s at the crease in cushions. He tossed a piece at Dick’s head, it bounced off his hair and landed somewhere in front of him. “You sure it’s that and not your memory?” Tim teased.

Dick glanced back at Tim and rolled his eyes. “I didn’t watch that many movies with Dami in here. Toss me one of those.”

Tim threw a second piece of popcorn to him. Dick caught it in his mouth, grinned, and turned back to the T.V. He was struggling to put on The Princess Bride. Jason had finished reading the book with Damian a few days earlier and the boy had been insistent on seeing the movie.

Despite his pressing Dick to get the movie started, Damian didn’t seem eager to help. He was a comforting weight at Jason’s side. The whole situation was one Jason never imagined himself being a part of. Seeing his brothers on patrol? Yes. Being able to call them for back up? Sure. But camping out at the manor for days, and not feeling like he had to sneak off was a new experience for him.

“Try plugging the HDMI cable into the back.”

Jason’s head swiveled to see Bruce, dressed for relaxing in a tee-shirt and sweats, stepping into the room with a tray of milkshakes in his hands. At his words, Dick gave an ‘ah ha!’. A few moments later the screen flickered to life as Bruce passed out the shakes.

Jason and Bruce hadn’t talked much in the past month. They’d worked together, and had brief conversations, but Jason hadn’t gone out of his way to see his adopted father. Neither had Bruce moved to try and close the gap between them. Part of Jason wished desperately that he might. The other part had no intention of letting it happen, for fear of it messing up the tentative peace he was experiencing.

It had been a month since Jason had found himself tied up in the family affair that was Mindbender. One month of him coming almost daily to see his brothers. Of tea with Alfred and working alongside Tim in the cave. Of tag teaming Damian with Dick. Every moment felt fragile and new. And every day he felt more and more like it was okay for him to stay.

Dick took a milkshake from Bruce’s tray and flopped onto the couch cushion beside Damian. Jason expected his brother to shift his cuddling to Dick. Instead Damian tugged on Dick’s sleeve, prompting the older Robin to scoot closer to him. Jason caught Bruce smiling at the exchange as he took his seat in the recliner cattycorner to their couch.

It had been a long time since Jason had seen the Princess Bride, so he should have been invested. Instead, he found himself turning most of his attention to Damian, watching his younger brother as he experienced it for the first time. It wasn’t like watching him when he was reading. Then, Damian had been reserved about the book, doing his best to seem unattached until he was in deep. It was at that point that Jason had started pausing for long periods of time, forcing Damian to push him to read further.

Now, Jason couldn’t help but smile at how easily drawn into the movie Damian was. His attention was locked on the screen in front of him. His eyes going wide sometimes, other scenes causing a scowl to flit across his face when he noticed an inconsistency with the book, his shake completely forgotten in his hand. Jason wondered if it was the first time Damian had seen the movie of a book he’d read.

He didn’t want to dwell on Damian’s childhood before he’d come to live with Bruce. That was the past, and this was now, but he was starting to see why Dick was so protective of the kid. Even Jason had read books and made fun of their terrible movie adaptations when he was Damian’s age. He’d read good stories, and bad ones, and had author’s he followed almost religiously. Damian had Art of War and Plato, neither of which were fun or light reading.

A second, smaller, sliver of his attention was on Bruce. He hadn’t expected the man to show up. The decision to have movie night was spur of the moment, and far flung from the night Bruce usually chose to host it on. Happening at four P.M. it could hardly be considered movie ‘night’ either. Someone, probably Alfred, must have told him they were meeting. Jason wanted to squirm in his seat and hide from the possibility of a real conversation breaking out between the two of them. He snagged a handful of popcorn from Tim’s bowl to distract himself with and tried to focus on the movie.

Even with food as a distraction, his mind moved back to his father. As much as he wanted to talk to Bruce, he didn’t want to ruin the good he had going. If he’d learned anything in his life, it was that sometimes it was better to be happy with what he had, and not to want too much. Things were less disappointing that way. A conversation with his adopted father could easily turn everything he’d worked for into mush.

He knew the argument that was sure to spring up would be more his fault than Bruce’s. He could never keep his temper for long around the man. He knew Bruce cared, and loved him, but he couldn’t stop the biting words that always flooded from him like poison. He wasn’t even sure what he was mad about anymore. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be mad anymore. Some days he wanted to yell until Bruce told him he was right. More often he found himself thinking he’d be happy if things could just be normal between them again.

He didn’t want to, but he was a little jealous of Damian, and how the boy could tug on a sleeve and get the attention he wanted. Part of him, the part that hadn’t had time to grow up between dying and the pit, felt like a kid who could find comfort tugging on his father’s sleeve. Then he reminded himself that Bruce had let him die. And that he’d come back a killer himself. Even if they were on speaking terms, it would be a long time before he could be a son again.

Jason turned his attention back to the movie and wished he hadn’t. Inigo was beginning his fight against Rugen. The man’s passion to avenge his father caught in Jason’s throat and he, having finished his own shake, took Damian’s melting one to help push back his conflicting emotions.

He’d collected himself by the time the movie ended and turned to Damian as Dick stood to turn the lights back on.

“So, what’d you think of it?”

The boy shrugged. “It was an acceptable adaptation of the source material.”

Jason punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t give me that crap. It was fantastic.”

Damian rolled his eyes but he was smiling. “I would not say fantastic. But it was enjoyable. I would watch it again.”

“That,” Dick said, returning to his seat, “is high praise.”

Jason caught a slight blush come onto his brother’s face and he seemed to be scrambling to change the subject. Jason decided to give him the out he was looking for. “What did you think of the differences?”

Damian frowned now, the blush disappearing. “Some were fine. However, I was disappointed in the portrayal of the sharks. And the zoo of death. It wasn’t even featured.”

Tim peered around Jason, with a frown. “There were more sharks in the book?”

Dick jumped in to explain that there were, and Damian stopped the conversation to question Tim if he’d read the book or not. On finding out he hadn’t both Dick and Damian pushed past Jason on the couch to crowd Tim. Jason found himself scooted to the cushion closest to where Bruce was sitting, Dick having taken his place next to Tim, and Damian scooting in next. While his brother’s voices crowded the air, discussing the pros and cons of reading a book prior to watching its movie, Jason turned his attention back to Bruce.

He was a little surprised that the man hadn’t left already, excusing himself with work or other business. Instead he’d lifted Damian’s forgotten copy of the Princess Bride and was flipping through it with curious attention. It was the kind of attention one gave something when they were trying to go unnoticed or stay out of someone’s way. He wasn’t doing a good job of pretending, not if Jason could tell why he was doing it. The way he smiled at Damian’s earnest desire for Tim to read the book, and his choked back laughter at Tim’s retort was enough to prove he was enjoying time spent with his kids, even if he wasn’t participating.

Seeing the book in his hands brought back an old memory of Jason sitting across from Bruce on the couch, their socked feet pressed together, as Bruce read the same story to him. The deep timbre of his words flowing over Jason and lulling him into sleep. He’d all but forgotten they’d read the book together years ago. It had been one of the first books Bruce had bought for him. Back then it was easy for Jason to ask for something, even if his pride let him rarely pose the question.

Now it wasn’t pride keeping him from asking, or maybe it still was just in a different form. Then he’d been too tough to ask Bruce for anything, he’d told himself he was being self-sufficient. Now he didn’t want to breach the subject because he was afraid of the conversation. Afraid of breaking what they had. He didn’t want to apologize. And he did. Things between them were still too broken, too newly built, too…whatever they were.

“Todd, you just finished the book as well. Tell Drake he needs to read it.” Damian’s voice, and his tugging on Jason’s arm, brought him out of his thoughts.

He turned his eyes on his youngest brother who look put out. Apparently, their conversation had not been going his way.

“It’s not a matter of reading the book, Damian.” Tim’s brow was creased with exasperation. “The point is that I shouldn’t have to if I want to enjoy the movie.”

Damian leaned forward, pushing Dick back into the couch so he could continue his lecture. Jason didn’t give him time to start as he hooked an arm around Damian’s middle, and pulled him back. Dick leaned forward again with a thankful smile to Jason for his help both with the couch and preventing any physical fights from starting out between the two youngest Waynes.

“Let him be, Dami. Tim’s entitled to his opinion.” Jason said.

“A wrong opinion, perhaps.” Damian grumbled, crossing his arms, but making no attempt to get away from Jason.

Dick turned and ruffled his hair. “Hop off that high horse. A month ago, you would have had the same opinion as him.”

“Tt.” Damian swatted at Dick's hand, but he only ended up hitting air as the other man had pulled his hand back already.

Jason’s confidence that he’d averted disaster fell the moment Tim leaned forward, pushing Dick back again, his face a mask of serious intent.

“It’s not a wrong opinion. There’s millions of other people I could cite that share the same opinion as me.” He said.

Damian squirmed and Jason kept his arm around his brother’s middle, intent on at least keeping one of them from charging the other if this got out of hand.

“You need the book to better appreciate the movie, Drake.”

“And I say you don’t. They are two completely different mediums and should be enjoyed on their own. My enjoyment of one should not dictate my enjoyment of the other. I’d go as far as to say that both stories are totally different.”

Damian’s indignant inhale of breath told Jason that no matter what he did he wouldn’t be able to prevent a fight unless he could change the topic of the conversation. A quick glance at Dick, who’d tried his best to move himself in front of Tim from his pressed position, confirmed his brother thought the same.

“You know what we haven’t talked about yet?” Jason said cutting off both the younger boys.

“What’s that?” Dick jumped in before Jason’s suggestion could be shot down.

“The acting. Damian, you told me yesterday you were worried about it, right?”

The tension seemed to dissipate at this and Damian wiggled away from Jason, settling back against the couch as he confirmed Jason’s question. The four settled into an easy conversation on the skill of acting presented, the sets, and special effects. The conversation gradually moved back into comparisons as even Jason couldn’t help but describe how he’d imagined a particular scene going.

This conversation came easier than anything, and before Jason knew it they’d phased Tim out completely. He caught a glimpse of his brother frowning down at his phone instead of participating and Jason tried to figure out a way of folding Tim back into the conversation.

Bruce saved him the trouble. Jason had almost forgotten the man was there, having been so quiet through their exchange. Bruce stood and returned the book to the side table, before he suggested they move their conversation to dinner since it was getting close to that time.

At his words the boys, who’d been previously contented by junk food, all found themselves hungry. Damian and Dick were first off the couch, Damian having moved back into talking about the shark versus eel contradiction. Bruce busied himself with collecting the empty milkshake glasses, and Jason helped Tim with the popcorn bowls.

They were met with a surprise when they entered the kitchen, Steph and Cass were chatting with Alfred. Steph was chatting, and Cass was in the middle of sneaking a cookie from the ones cooling on a rack. Their conversation stopped when Tim, Jason, and Bruce entered the room.

“Look who showed up. Where have you guys been?” Steph asked, taking a bowl from Tim to inspect it, popping the last few popcorn kernels in her mouth.

Jason took Tim’s other bowl and the cups from Bruce before he made for the dishwasher. Tim answering Steph’s question behind him. An uncomfortable feeling had started in his stomach at seeing the girls. They’d been gone on a long-term mission in Hong Kong since before Mindbender. He’d heard they were back, but hadn’t seen them yet and didn’t know how much they knew about what had happened.

To them he could be an unwanted visitor. More than that, they might see him as an enemy in the manor. Especially if they hadn’t talked to anyone about the changes that had happened in the last month. He’d been on steady enough terms with the family before they left, but it wasn’t anything close to where he was now. Neither had seemed surprised at him walking in, but both were good at masking their emotions. He decided to keep his head down for the moment and see what happened.

He’d just finished arranging the bowls and cups in the dishwasher and was closing it when he felt Cass’s presence at this side. She put a finger to her lips and showed him a cookie, from the tempting scent drifting off it Jason knew it was the fresh baked one she’d swiped when they walked in. She broke it in half and handed part to him.

Jason couldn’t help but smile at her secrecy. It was probable Alfred knew about her theft already, and was indulging her. Either way, Jason took the offered half and bit into it, Cass doing the same with hers. The chocolate was at that point where the outside was soft and the inside melted, the bitter sweet flavor of the chips just sweet enough to ruin Jason’s desire for savory food.

She smiled at him. “Welcome home.”

Something warm bloomed in his stomach, and it wasn’t the cookie. The feeling washed away the sick worry that had settled there as he said, “You too.”

Dinner was a loud affair. The return of Cass and Steph doubled the confusion at the table. It was the typical dinner craziness of rolls tossed at siblings, salt being snuck into drinks, and Cass and Damian constantly trying to hide the fact that they were feeding Titus food from their plates.

Steph spent most of the meal detailing out how she and Cass had infiltrated a modeling agency in Hong Kong. The agency had been a front for human traffickers in the city. They’d managed to, over the month they were there, take down the entire scheme from the inside out. By the time she was done, even Damian had given them praise over their handling of the situation.

It wasn’t until Steph turned the conversation to what the men had done while they’d been away that things got crazier than usual. Dick had hardly finished telling them about Mindbender when Steph started asking a million questions. The boys did their best to field them, until at last Steph crossed her arms with a whine.

“How come we miss everything fun?”

Jason raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re seriously complaining about missing a crazy psychopath rooting around in your head? And missing dealing with these two—” Jason hooked a thumb at Dick and Damian who were sitting next to each other, “Being dysfunctional?” he finished before wincing and looking to his brothers. “No offence.”

Dick shrugged. “None taken.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Just stick around, Brown. Things are never quiet with this family.”

Jason tuned out Steph’s indignant reply as he caught sight of Tim sneaking away from the table, Alfred by his side. The older man handed Tim an envelope. Tim frowned at it before casting a glance at the table and following Alfred out. Jason made a mental note to ask him about the letter later. It was probably W.E. related, but there was no reason not to make sure it wasn’t. For now, Jason turned back to the rest of his family just as Steph was began to ask Dick a gauntlet of questions regarding his memories of Damian, trying to find something he didn’t remember.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim opens his letter, has a conversation with Jason, and starts to realize he might be a little stressed.

Tim frowned at the sheet of paper on his desk. It seemed to frown back, it’s uneven creases from folding forming a strange sort of turned down grimace against the black typeface printed on the sheet. It was copy paper, printed from one of millions of standard printers, the font Times New Roman, eleven point if Tim was looking at it right.

He was almost certain it was free of any contaminates beyond the typical germs gathered through the postal system, but he could always run the paper and envelope through the Batcave’s computer just to make sure. All he had left to do was decide how serious to take the threat. It had an _I’ll get you my pretty, and your little dog too_ feel to it, melodramatic and almost comical.

But he couldn’t discount it. Tim never discounted threats, no matter how melodramatic they felt. He always did his research, finding the ones that were valid and the ones that were written in a fit of irritation. This note felt more like the latter, but he had some research to do before he was sure.

Unless they came directly to Wayne Enterprises or over the phone Bruce was mostly unaware of the different threats Tim got on a regular basis. Bruce himself got many. As a corporate executive it happened, even to philanthropists like Bruce. Tim got as many, if not more threats than his adopted father. He usually had a good idea of where they came from. Layoffs, budget cuts, rejection of proposed projects or extensions. Tim made a lot of tough decisions and he saw the consequences of it.

He would just prefer Bruce to not know the extent of what he received. Which was why he typically kept any threats he received out of the cave. He had a working office at his apartment, even if by working he meant ‘everything piled onto his kitchen table’ and by office he meant his closet. There he’d dedicated half the space to file storage. He kept paper and digital copies in cabinets and on different external hard drives. The whole thing was as organized as the cave, even if his usual workspace on the table didn’t always follow the same pattern.

It was also well out of both Bruce and Alfred’s views. Neither bothered to rifle through his closet at his apartment. Especially now that he’d basically moved back into the manor. It seemed like all of Bruce’s kids had returned because of Mindbender. Dick and Jason had spent almost every night of the past month there, and Tim had spent more than usual.

It was easy falling back into the routine of being with his family. There was no commute to the Batcave and with Bruce’s new insistence on seeing the family in the mornings for a ‘debriefing’ it was easier for Tim to spend the night then pick up what he needed from his apartment on the way to work.

He’d taken a risk, opening the envelope in his room with his family downstairs still at dinner. He didn’t count on any of them walking in on him, but with his family the chance was still there. Still, he hadn’t wanted to wait on it, and he hadn’t wanted to drive all the way out to his apartment, not with patrol starting in a few hours.

So he’d camped out at his old desk, slipped some of Alfred’s yellow gloves on, and slit the envelope open. He had forgotten to lock the door. It was easy to forget lately. He didn’t need to. Not with the nosiest of his brothers occupied with Damian.  

He was happy enough for his kid brother. Happier still that most of his time at the manor hadn’t been spent dodging the boy’s barbs. They were on neutral terms, moreso now that Jason was occupying the majority of Damian’s time.

Jason. Tim brushed a hand along the ink of the words on the letter, Jason was home. And Tim wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He was happy, really happy, his brother was home. He more than anyone, maybe even Dick, had pushed to have Jason back. It wasn’t fair that Jason should be shuttered (or shutter himself) from the family.

Tim had been the catalyst to close him from Bruce, Dick, the girls, and even Damian to some extent. He’d swooped in and taken Jason’s spot. His mantle, his place in the family, his home. It didn’t matter that at the time he’d been dead. Tim had done it.

Something inside of him wanted to point out that if Tim hadn’t stepped into Jason’s shoes none of them would be here today. Bruce would have continued down his destructive path and everyone’s lives would have been altered because of it. Jason might have come back to no family instead of a broken one.

But Tim didn’t want to listen to sense. Not as he sat looking at a threat against his life. A threat that was possibly in the right. A threat that seemed to say, _you deserve this and so much more_. He felt like a child who’d done something wrong and hadn’t received a proper punishment for it.

He lifted the letter and folded it over on its uneven creases, intending to put it back into the envelope. His mistake with the lock caught up with him then as the door cracked open. The hinges squeaking the slightest, not because Alfred had missed them, but because Tim liked them that way as a warning system.

A light knock on the door followed the squeak and then, “Timmers, you in here?”

Tim turned in his chair to see Jason lit in the door. He smiled at Tim and took a step inside. He stopped there, a look of uncertainty crossing his face, like he wasn’t sure if he could or should be in Tim’s room. He stood, not quite relaxed, and shrugged.

“Dinner wrapped up without you. Was that what took you from us?” he nodded at the folded paper in Tim’s hand.

Took him? It took Tim’s mind a second to catch up to Jason’s words. He was too busy worrying about his brother’s tentative entrance. He held back a grimace, Jason should feel at home anywhere, Tim’s room included. He shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable checking on his family, but he did. It was Tim’s fault, but not just his fault. The family’s. They’d done a good job lately making him feel welcome, but before this?

Tim didn’t want to consider how he’d pushed to have Bruce give Jason slack. He hated thinking about how they’d simply moved patrols around the Red Hood’s and how they worked together only when needed. He’d been so grateful when Jason had started making his own moves back.

He deserved a second chance. As many second chances as it took, but Tim had a feeling Jay wouldn’t need many. He could see it, in his brother’s eyes and the way he carried himself this past month, how happy Jason was to be home. He’d relaxed, not completely, but more than Tim had ever known him to.

“Earth to, Timbo, you in there?” Jason had moved closer, and was leaning down to face Tim. How he’d missed that Tim had no idea.

“Sorry.” He said, scooting his chair back a little, it bumped into the desk and he tilted his head up to look at Jason.

His mind flashed back to a different time when he’d found himself looking up into his brother’s face. It had been early after Jason returned. He’d towered over Tim, helmet tucked to his side so Tim could see the look on his face, and take in the derisive grimace displayed there.

Impostor. It hadn’t been the first time he’d called Tim that, nor the last. The word stung not because it lacked truth, but because it was true. Every word connected with it came to mind then:     impersonator, masquerader, pretender, imitator, deceiver.

It’s all Tim had done, all he felt like he’d been. Hiding behind the mask of Robin. Of the Good Son. Of the Fill In. Telling himself the whole time that he had to be there. That he was needed. That if he only worked hard enough he’d earn his own place instead of just being the replacement. Had he deceived everyone, even himself?

The sheet of paper slipped from his fingers, a snap of movement that brought Tim back to reality again. Jason had straightened and was holding it, still folded, in the air.

“This must be real important if it’s got you so distracted.” he said moving to unfold it.  

Tim was out of his seat, and snatching it back before Jason could get past the first line that just listed Tim’s name. “It’s company stuff. Boring, mind numbingly so.” Tim lied as he fumbled to fold it into fourths and stuff it in his back pocket.

It was a flimsy excuse that had no chance of being accepted. And yet somehow it worked. Jason regarded him for a moment before shrugging. “Thanks for the save then. I wouldn’t want my brain to shut down like your’s seems to have.” He smirked.

Tim rolled his eyes. “And you just came to check on me?”

Jason shrugged and kicked a foot out in front of him. “Taking care of the Batbrat’s rubbing off on me in weird ways.”

Good ways, Tim thought. There was no reason for Jason to check on Tim tonight, and while young Jason might not have had a problem doing it, the Jason he knew wouldn’t unless prompted by an outside force. That mostly included Alfred, but sometimes it happened when his sibling was noticeably in need of help.

Not like Tim had been tonight. It wasn’t strange for him to leave early. Really the only one it would be strange to see disappear before the end of the meal was Damian, and even he had reasons sometimes.

“Better be careful then, or you may end up hugging me next.” Tim said. When Jason gave him a confused frown he elaborated with a half eyeroll. “Time around him means time around Dick.”

Jason’s mouth opened in an O before it turned thoughtful. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Tim said and pushed past him. “Thanks for the check up, my next destination is the cave if you were curious. But I don’t think you’ll have time to follow me there.” He added as he spotted a shorter shadow stalking it’s way down the hall towards them.

Jason didn’t have time to be confused before Damian arrived and reclaimed their wayward brother for an unmentioned task. Tim let them go with a half smile before leaving himself.

~

Tim’s quiet lasted a half hour before his family started filtering down to the cave. Bruce was first, taking Tim’s place at the computer with a look and a nod. Then Dick and Damian found their way down, moving onto the practice pads Tim had been using. Jason was last to saunter down. If Tim hadn’t been halfway into his uniform Jason might have ended up chasing him out of there too.

As it was he rushed to finish getting ready and had to stop himself from storming out and past Jason waiting outside. When he re-emerged into the cave proper he found himself at a loss for what to do. The activity buzzing around him, Cass and Steph carrying supplies, Dick and Damian still practicing, and Bruce and Alfred taking up the computer left Tim feeling a little like a rubber duck left adrift in the ocean.

He’d never been much for rubber ducks.

He stood frozen with indecision until Jason moved past him, ready in his Red Hood uniform. He gave Tim a pat on the shoulder before heading towards the girls. He’d be patrolling with them tonight instead of tagging along with Bruce and Tim. He’d said something about wanting to catch up. Tim didn’t mind. He didn’t really care who Jason worked with. He’d been cycling between working with Tim and Bruce and Damian and Dick since he’d been back.

Speaking of Dick. He and Damian separated, Damian heading for the locker room and Dick making his way towards Tim. He wiped off his face and tossed the towel around his neck.

“Hey Timmy, can I grab you for a second?”

Tim nodded. “What’s up?”

Dick’s smile faded a little as he looked Tim over. “How are you? You disappeared after dinner and after that spat with Dami earlier…” he broke off to shrug.

Tim mirrored his shrug. “I’m fine. Some work stuff came up, nothing I can’t handle.”

Dick raised an eyebrow at him and Tim realized that Jason must have mentioned something to Dick after he’d left Tim’s room. It was the only reason his oldest brother would single him out right then. It wasn’t that Dick wasn’t keeping up with Tim, it was that Tim was sure he’d done a good enough job of hiding his growing stress.

Tim hesitated to call it stress, he didn’t know what was bothering him. Maybe it was that things were moving too fast, or maybe he just wasn’t used to having everyone together. He couldn’t remember a time the manor had been so full for such an extended period of time. He wondered briefly how Bruce was taking the added confusion.

“You sure? You want to patrol with me tonight? Bruce can take Damian, he’s been wanting to get a good look at Robin in the field after everything.” Dick offered.

Tim was a little surprised. Dick had been working almost exclusively with Damian since Bruce let them back on patrol. After the Mindbender mess both of them had submitted to a week of rest. Dick mostly to spend time with Damian, and Damian mostly because everyone managed to guilt him into it.

“Nah, it’s just Bruce and I tonight. Jason’s joining the girls.” Tim said a little sad to decline Dick’s offer. He liked working alongside his oldest brother, he was relaxing and fun to be around and maybe what Tim needed for a night off.

“Hmm.” Dick said before shaking his head. “Nope, you’re with me. You and B work together all the time. Let me take you out on the town tonight.”

Tim groaned. “Dick, that is not how you offer to patrol.”

Dick tilted his head back thoughtfully. “I dunno, I kind of like it.”

Tim smiled and rolled his eyes. “Whatever, just don’t let Jason hear you say it.”  


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason, Cass, and Steph patrol

Jason should have offered to patrol alone. It would have been a bit lonely after spending a month working with someone, but even that would be better than what he had now. What exactly he had, he wasn’t sure. He’d spent the first half of patrol trying to figure it out as he followed Spoiler and Black Bat across the city.

Cass was warm, and welcoming. Everything he hadn’t expected her to be. He shouldn’t have been surprised by it. Not after their exchange in the kitchen. He hadn’t needed to explain anything to her for his sister to realize what had changed, and how Jason was still new to those changes. She’d seen it the moment he’d walked in and was doing her best to make him feel comfortable.

It was Steph that surprised him. She’d been distant and cold the whole night, only working with him because Cass had given her a look in the cave that demanded the evening go smoothly. Jason hadn’t ever gotten to know Steph very well. She was younger and tended to hang around Tim or Cass, but their few interactions had been civil enough, and Tim described her as ‘open to just about anyone’. Which left him wondering what made him not fit into the everyone category.

He could understand it better if he’d ever tried to kill her or had actively gone after her in the past, but he hadn’t. Which meant she was holding something else he’d done against him. And if he hadn’t done it to her it had to have been against Tim. He was the only person (barring Cass) that she’d be angry for. Except he hadn’t done anything to Tim lately.

Which left him right back where he’d started.

They stopped in front of a jewelry store whose alarm had gone off twenty minutes prior. The owner had called in that everything was fine but it never hurt to double check. Sometimes it was a rat and sometimes it was a guy casing a heist. Jason was kind of hoping they’d find someone. The night had been light on action leaving him all pent up energy and nerves, it would be nice to take some of that out on someone.  

First glance told them there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the store, no broken windows, or even lights on aside from the evening lighting. It looked by all rights to be a false alarm. Cass insisted they at least walk around it to make sure.

He let the two girls go ahead of him only to have Cass drop back to walk beside him. Her steps were light and easily matched to his own.

“You are upset.” It wasn’t a question.

Jason shrugged, widening his steps. “I shouldn’t talk about it right now.”

Cass only matched his stride and held her hands up to her ears and mimed headphones. “She can't hear us. Listening to homework.”

He shrugged again, and his sister pressed her lips together in a frown. He could talk to her, but he didn’t really want to. Not while they were working, or with Steph close, or even at that moment. He was conflicted enough in himself that he didn’t know the source of his anxiety. At the same time, he thought he did know. But it wasn’t something he could distill into words.

He felt a little like he had years ago when Bruce had pulled him off the streets. Off balance, and unsure of what he could or couldn’t do in the place his family expected him to call home. He was surrounded by people who said they cared and claimed he was part of the family, but there was a wall. Jason didn’t know if it was self-imposed or real, but it was there, and it was keeping him from feeling totally comfortable.

Then there was Bruce. They had so much to talk about. So many words that were never shared. All the hurt that had piled between them. Jason didn’t know where to start fixing it, so he didn’t even try. Bruce was happy enough to let him stay at the manor and he was going to be happy with that. If his adopted father wanted it any other way he’d make those wishes known. At least that’s what Jason told himself.

They stopped walking, having reached the back entrance to the store. Steph moved around the dumpster to check while Cass and Jason loitered by the door. He watched Spoiler for a moment, as she took careful steps around the dumpster, half engrossed in what she was listening to. She radiated every negative thought Jason had tried to push away in the weeks he’d been back home. Mistrust. Wary watchful eyes. Grudges and words left unsaid for fear of rejection. He didn’t even have  _ history  _ with her.

Cass put a hand on his shoulder and glanced at Steph. “Not mad. Just worried.”

Jason sighed. “I know. It’s not her, not really. It’s just--” he let the word trail.

“Everything.” she supplied.

“Yeah.”

He knew he was on the right track. His gut told him so. And some days he’d even convinced his brain of the same thing. Those were the days when he would linger in the kitchen after breakfast to help Alfred, where Bruce joined him in the library to read in silence for hours, and where he and Dick would talk, but not about anything important just stuff. They were days when he could look at himself in the mirror just to see himself instead of to cast judgment on the day’s sins.

Those days were growing in frequency, but today had sunk his mood dramatically. He was worried about Tim, and now Steph. Though not her as much as Tim. He’d been happy to hear Dick insist on taking Tim out. Damian could use a night working with Bruce, and Dick was far better at big brothering than Jason was. Jason was still learning, Dick was old hat and far better equipped to help Tim through whatever he was dealing with than Jason was.

“Time will make it better.” Cass told him.

Jason nodded at her, and she moved her hand. “Why don’t you two finish up here? I’ll take my usual route and wrap up patrol by myself tonight.”

She stepped back and looked him over for a moment deciding the root of his reasons, she seemed to like what she saw and smiled. “I am happy your home.”

Jason opened his mouth to respond when there was a crash from by the trash bin, metal clanging to the ground followed by two voices struggling to be heard over the other.

Jason and Cass moved together. They rounded the large green bin to find Steph hauling a kid to his feet, one of her earbuds had fallen out of her ear and was swinging across her chest. She spared a hand to stop the swinging cord while the kid tried to pull away. He ended up slipping half out of his army green jacket before Steph readjusted her grip and he was stuck.

“Out of everyone to find breaking into a jewelry store, you kid were the last one I could have imagined.” She said.

The boy shoved a lock of loose brown curls out of his eyes and glared up at her. “I wasn’t breaking into the store. I was just hidin’, now lemme go.”

“An alarm went off here earlier. If it wasn’t you then you must have been close enough to see who it was.” Steph told him.

It took Jason a moment to place the kid. It had been a while since he’d seen him on the streets. He felt a pang, he’d hoped to never see him on the streets after dark again. It was better when you didn’t see them again, it meant they’d taken Jason’s advice to heart.

“Luke Saldages, I thought you were back in school.”

The kid turned his attention towards Jason, taking in Jason’s helmet and relaxed stance all at once. He jerked his arm again, hoping to pull away from Steph. “You can let go now, lady. Hood knows me.”

Jason aimed a finger at him. “That’s Red Hood, and she doesn’t have to let go until I say so. What are you doing out here?”

“Nothing.” His lips puckered on the word like it was sour.

Jason shifted, pulling his shoulders back as he crossed his arms. He could feel Cass’s eyes on him watching as he handled the situation. He was happy she hadn’t made any moves of her own yet. In fact, she’d taken a step behind him when he’d first spoken, letting him take the field.

Steph was watching him, but she too had taken the cue to let him talk to Luke. She knew as well as he did that someone with a relationship was always better at getting information from kids than a stranger. Her grip on his arm had eased a bit, but not enough that he could get away from her with a surprise.

Luke rolled his eyes. “I told you. I was hidin’.”

“From who?”

The boy shifted from one foot to the other and shrugged. “Cops.”

“We’ve talked about lying, Luke.” Jason’s voice was softer now, but not so soft the kid would think he was going to let him run off, “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re telling the truth or not.”

Luke leveled a look at him, and did his best to cross his arms with one still held by Steph. When it was too difficult he let both arms drop with a huff. Jason waved at her to let him go.

“We still don’t know what he was doing here.” She argued.

“Trust me?” Jason asked, and wanted to grimace. At this point asking Steph to trust him with something was like asking Damian and Tim to perform a trust fall, they might refuse just to spite the world. But Luke wouldn’t relax unless he didn’t think they were going haul him back home or off to the police station.

Steph waited a beat before releasing Luke’s arm. He tugged his jacket back in place and stepped away from Steph. He was still frowning but it was less severe and more questioning. He kept looking from Cass and Jason to Steph and back like he was trying to figure them out.  

Jason took the moment to look him up and down. Last he’d heard from him he’d been back in school and his mom was doing better. His appearance seemed to say the same. Back then Luke had been all skin and bones, wearing his dad’s hand-me-downs. Now he was in clothes that fit and shoes that looked close to new. His hair was still too long, but Jason guessed that was stylistic and not because it was cheaper to let it grow. So what was he doing in Gotham well past midnight caught outside a store that might have been robbed?

“How’s your mom?” Jason probed. “She feeling better?”

Luke shrugged. “She hasn’t had an episode in a while.”

“And your dad, he still working at that garage?”

Behind Luke Steph was tapping a foot and eyeing Jason impatiently. He ignored her, keeping his attention on the kid in front of him. His wariness had faded as he fell into old conversation habits.

“Nah, he quit that place. He’s working for Mr. Fox now. It’s not exactly Wayne Enterprises, but Dad thinks he’ll move up there in another year.” Luke was grinning now.

Jason uncrossed his arms and moved them to his hips. “Then what are you doing out here? I know last time you were trying to help your parents, but I don’t think they need jewelry,” Luke tensed at the word, “or whatever it is you're into.”

Luke kicked his foot back behind him, the girls around him totally forgotten. “They’re still fighting. I thought if Mom was better and Dad was working they wouldn’t, but they still do. All the time. And it’s always about money.”

“And you thought getting caught up in something illegal would help all that?” Jason asked.

Jason could understand parents fighting about money, especially in a situation like Luke’s. Mother recovering from serious illness, father working what was probably an entry level job, and even working for Fox they were probably making minimum payments on hospital bills. So yeah, fights weren’t really a shocker. Luke sneaking out to ‘help’ didn’t surprise him either.

“The money’s good.” Luke said, then immediately realized what he’d said. His mouth snapped shut and he turned a glare on Jason. “You gonna search me?”

Jason shrugged. “Let me make you a deal. You give me what you have, and information on who you got it from, and I’ll pay you double what they want.”

The kid’s eyes went saucer wide and his hand went for his back pocket. Then, just as fast, his eyes narrowed. “How do I know your friends aren’t gonna just haul me off to the station after.”

“Because I’m here.” Jason told him, his tone a promise as he glanced over at Steph.

She didn’t look happy but he wasn’t sure if that was because of him or Luke. If he wanted to guess he’d say it was because of him. He had no idea how she felt about watching him offer money for drugs or whatever illegal merchandise Luke had on him, but she probably wasn’t happy. He didn’t care. Jason wasn’t just going to take the stuff from the kid and leave him to figure out how to pay back whoever he’d gotten it from, that was suicide and stupid. And yeah, he was going to give him extra. Whatever his family problems at home were a little money couldn’t hurt.

Luke tapped his foot behind him, deciding. While he did so Jason tugged his own wallet out of his pocket.

“You remember what I said to you last time?” He said, resting the wallet against his palm.

The foot stopped, and Luke’s eyes dropped to the ground like he’d just seen the most interesting thing show up by the toes of his white sneaker. “I wanted to help, like last time.” The kid had a small packet in his hands now, and he was turning it over.

“Not like this. You know better.” Jason told him.

“You haven’t been by in a while. I thought you might’ve-”

He didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t need to. It didn’t matter what those last words might have been, he was right. Jason had been gone for a while. His habit of patrolling with the family had pulled him away from his usual spots. He’d missed checking in on a few kids in the past month. Luke was a walking reminder that Jason needed to remember his priorities, and balance things better. If he let Luke slip past, who else had he possibly missed?

“That shouldn’t matter. Whether I’m here or not you need to be good for you not me.”

Luke nodded and thrust the bag out towards Jason. “It’s from some new guys. They have a funny name, starts with an A or E or somethin’. But they say the stuff’s so good anyone can get rich fast selling it.”

Jason took the packet and looked it over. The bag was filled with a white powder; they’d have to look it over in the cave but Jason had a pretty good idea of what it might be. He emptied his wallet and folded the bills over before holding the wad out to Luke, pulling back at the last second.

“I catch you at this again, Luke, and there will be no discussion, no sob stories, and no pity. I’ll drag you down to see the commissioner myself and wait until your parents arrive. Then when you're done with whatever grounding they give you I’ll put you to work for me, running so many errands you’ll be too tired to argue, let alone deal on the side.”

Luke gulped. “Yessir.” he said as he took the money. He counted it quickly and pulled a few bills from the stack. “It’s too much.” he said, trying to hand it back.

Jason waved him off, he carried the cash for this reason, and he could always have Bruce reimburse him later. “You hear anything else about these guys and you tell me ok? But stay away from them. Pay em and go home, got it?”

Luke tucked the money in his pocket and looked up at Jason again. “Got it.” He moved to push past Jason and Cass but stopped to look back at him. “Thanks.”

Jason gave him a thumbs up. “Course, now get going before your parents miss you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Dick grab a snack while on patrol and talk about nothing while trying to talk about something.

Tim watched as Nightwing eased his way down the fire escape, careful not to rattle the old metal. He paused to turn back to give a thumbs up, before hooking his legs over the edge and flipping down, to hang above the unsuspecting crooks below. The movement combined with Dick’s shout of ‘Boo!’ sent the two men jumping, the stolen purse dropping between them, mid argument as they screamed and scuttled away from whatever had shocked them.

He couldn’t hold back his laughter at the scene. Dick swung down and subdued the two men in a moment, before retrieving the purse. The woman who’d lost it was down a block or so, and Tim would have reminded Dick of it, but he was still giggling madly. The shriek-jump combination both men had loosed something in him, and he was glad there was little danger of anyone sneaking up on him in that moment, since he was little more than a sitting duck of snickering madness.

He’d almost composed himself by the time Dick returned, still chuckling when he pictured the wide-eyed looks, but mostly put back together. He hadn’t bothered to get up from where he’d fallen from his crouch into more of a sit. His brother seemed happy enough to find him where he’d left him, his own grin on his face.

“I don’t know why I don’t do that more often.” Dick said holding out a hand to help Tim stand.

He took it and let Dick partially pull him to his feet. “Because half the time they have a gun.”

Dick shrugged, “Too true. Where to next?”

Tim opened his mouth to respond, at the same time his stomach growled. He glared down at his uniform where the traitorous sound had come from. They’d only been out a few hours, and even if he had missed out on most of dinner he was fine. Even if his body was trying to tell him otherwise. He looked up when Dick put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hold that thought, Timmers. Let’s grab some food first.”

Tim let Dick guide him to the other side of the roof and in the general direction of one of Dick’s favorite late night food places with little argument. He’d let Dick lead most of the night, only giving input when asked. His mind had been other places, on the letter, and the family, and how busy the manor was getting. He was _tired_ and getting tired of feeling like he was sinking into the shadows.

Dick was doing his best to cheer him up. His chatting and joking were an attempt, that up until he’d dropped in on the crooks, hadn’t worked well to break Tim’s gloom. His grip on Tim’s shoulder was tight and the kind that didn’t accept arguing, and said ‘I’m worried and we can talk about this when I’ve made sure you’ve eaten.’ It came from the same source of worry that made him send Damian to patrol with Bruce and Tim was grateful for it.

His oldest brother could always be counted on to cheer him up, though it had been a while since he’d had the chance. Tim didn’t want to lay the blame on Damian, but it was technically the kid’s fault. He’d monopolized not only Dick’s attention, but Jason’s too. And in growing amounts.

Damian who’d squeezed his way into Tim’s position. Damian who’d taken his place over and over again. As the youngest. As Robin. As Dick’s favorite. On and on it went. Not that Tim could blame him, he’d done the same when he’d showed up. The only difference was the Robin he’d displaced hadn’t been there to argue or feel the sting of losing everything, at least not until it was already all gone.

He didn’t blame Damian anymore for their rocky start. Ok he did, but not in the same way he used to. It wasn’t fair to blame Damian for his early mistakes, not with how hard he’d worked to change. That didn’t stop the ache that still cropped up sometimes when Tim watched his kid brother don his Robin’s uniform or when he was pushed aside from a conversation with Bruce by a needy Damian.

He followed Dick, down off the roof and across the city, his brain on autopilot as the cool wind caught his hair. He told himself that’s just what little brothers did. They were like nets for attention, sweeping by and catching everything they could hold, leaving only the scraps behind. He tried to reason that he’d had his time with Bruce. Even if most of it had been spent working to be accepted, then bouncing from lonely Drake Manor to the only place he’d ever really thought of as a home. As hard as he tried though, he could never fully convince himself that he didn’t resent Damian, at least a little bit.

They’d moved past attempting to kill each other and had settled on mutual acceptance. Tim knew that if things got tough he wouldn’t hesitate to take care of his brother. He also knew Damian would do the same for him. What Tim hadn’t been able to figure out yet was if he’d do it out of some sort of real affection, or if he cared because Damian was family and that’s just what you did for family. He thought he’d figured it out when Mindbender attacked, but what if he’d simply been angry out of familial pride? A ‘you go after one of us, you go after us all’ kind of feeling? And what about Damian, where did his feelings lie?

The smell of meat and potatoes cooking pulled Tim out of his own head. They’d stopped at a familiar food truck. The dented silver vehicle would have blended into the night if not for the lights rimming the edges. The yellow glow showed a faded menu, written in expert hand, and the truck’s name painted in blue and white: House of Gyros

Tim remembered the first time Dick had brough him by the truck. He’d been wary and tired that night, still new to the job and trying to figure out a good snack rotation for late nights. Dick had seen though his attempts to pass off not being hungry right away and had insisted on a food run. Bruce let them go after extracting a promise that they ‘bring back something good, Al’s on a health kick right now’.

The owner, Erich Delias, leaned out of his window to grin at the two of them. His salt and pepper hair had gone more salt than pepper in the years since Tim first met him, but his smile never changed. “What can I getcha’ boys tonight?” he asked.

“Just the usual Mr. Delias.” Dick said.

Without another word the man disappeared back into the truck for a few minutes coming back once to set two styrofoam cups down on the counter. While they waited Dick dug in one of his pockets for the cash he always kept on him for snack runs and emergencies. Tim peered around his brother to catch sight of a rotating skewer of meat keeping warm in the back of the truck.

He asked once what all went into the lamb mixture used in Erich’s gyros, hoping that maybe Alfred could remake the addicting food. Erich had winked at him and told him it was secret, and that the only way he’d find out is if he married in. Tim’s face had gone red and he’d never asked again.

A few seconds later Erich stepped back into view and put down trays of food, on each one rested two  gyro’s wrapped in white paper, accompanied by a pile of fresh made chips. Only one tray held a plastic container of tzatziki sauce and Tim found himself grinning at the man’s good memory. Tim liked it, but not on a patrol night, the yogurt too easily turned his stomach if he had to jump into action right after eating.

“It’s on the house.” Erich said eyeing the cash in Dick’s hand.

When he opened his mouth to argue the man waved him off. “I’ve told you before, it’s the least I can do for you after you helped my little girl.”

“We were happy to help.” Tim answered for Dick, reaching over to hand his brother the cups and take the trays. “You still have my card in case you ever need anything else, right?”

Erich grinned at him and hooked a thumb behind him. “I’ve got it framed, my grandkids can’t get over the fact that I feed Batman and his kids. You tell him I said hi, and that he and Hood need to drop by again.”

“Will do Mr. Delias.” Tim said.

There were nights he liked to eat on the little park benches set around Erich’s truck. Then there were nights like tonight, when Tim just wanted to be away from everything. He and Dick found a quiet spot on a rooftop, tucked out of the most active parts of Gotham, to eat.

If Tim had any reservations left about breaking from patrol for food they were pushed aside with the first bite from his gyro. The warm, fresh food was exactly what he needed to settle the argument his stomach had been putting up since it’s first grumble. Not only that but it seemed to settle the discomfort in his chest. 

Comfort food had a way of pushing worry out of the way in favor of living in the moment. The warmth spreading through Tim paired with the familiar flavors made stronger by memory was enough to make him think everything would be alright. He’d finished half the chips and one of his two sandwiches before pausing to drink from his cup.

He looked over to see that Dick was halfway through his second gyro, the wrapper for the first folded and tucked under his red and white checkered tray. He dunked the wrapped sandwich in its sauce before pausing to look Tim over.

“What’s up?” he asked before taking a bite.

Tim picked up his second gyro and started unwrapping it for something to do while he tried to come up with an answer. What was he supposed to say? _Thanks for being there tonight, I’ve felt alone?_ Or: _The manor, in all it’s size feels too small lately?_ Maybe: _I’m afraid I don’t fit in anymore, what if Jason was right and I really am just a replacement?_

Instead he went with the mundane. “You know I come by Erich’s in the daytime right? I always leave him extra.”

Dick grinned around his bite. “I know,” he swallowed, “Just like I know you used my argument with him to slip payment in under his salt shaker.”

“You caught that, eh?” Tim said. “I know he’s thankful, but it’s been what, three years?”

His brother nodded, finishing off the rest of his gyro. “I’ve tried telling him that we’d be happy to pay, but you know what he always says?”

Tim shook his head. He’d never pushed the old man past the first few times he’d insisted the food be on the house. He had other ways to make sure both Erich and his daughter were taken care of beyond insisting he let him pay for a meal. Like talking up his food truck at work, and creating a scholarship geared towards his daughter’s interests.  

“He always asks: What’s a little food in exchange for my daughter’s life?” Dick supplied, dancing a chip between his fingers.

Tim smiled. “That sounds like him.” he said, he reached his hand down for another chip and found he’d finished them all.

Dick shrugged, popping the chip into his mouth to chew on. His eyes landed on Tim’s now empty dish and he slid his tray over to him, pointing down at the contents. “Erich always tells me you're too skinny, you know.”

Tim took a handful, unwilling to resist the offer. Erich’s fresh made chips were one of the little pleasures in life. Crispy on the edges and a little soft in the middle, topped with just enough salt. Tim would have probably stolen a few from Dick if his brother hadn’t offered them. Not that Dick wouldn’t offer. Erich wasn’t the only one who commented on Tim’s thin frame. His oldest brother constantly worried over him. Him, Jason, Cass, Damian, and really anyone Dick saw as family.

“He never says that about you. Mostly he just complains that you don’t come around as often as you used to.” Tim told him around a mouthful of chips.

Dick hummed and leaned back on his palms, letting the comment go with a shrug. They sat together for a few minutes, Tim eating chips while Dick stared at the city. Tim spent the time trying out ways to bring up his stress with Dick. Looking for the right words to describe just how lost he felt. He’d finally thought he’d found them when Dick broke the silence.

“I’m thinking about moving.” he said, his eyes not moving from the landscape ahead of him. “Or changing jobs, or something.”

Tim froze, chip halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean.”

His brother shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of time to think this past month. I’m getting older and I’m not sure I’ve really found what I want to do with my life.”

“You're not going to leave Gotham are you? Leave Nightwing? I don’t think Damian could handle that.”

 _I don’t think I could handle that._ He wanted to say. And not because he couldn’t actually handle it He could, time had taught him as much. What he couldn’t handle was another change. Another thing that had been solid turning to jello. It wouldn’t matter if Dick only moved a town over, or stayed in Gotham but dropped his night gig, the difference would be there.

Dick shook his head. “Nothing like that. I just think it’s time I found something to do. I can’t keep living off Bruce’s money forever, and I want to help people all the time. Not just at night. You know?”

“Yeah, but--” Tim broke off mid-sentence as movement below caught his attention.

A car had pulled up to the building across from theirs. Normally Tim wouldn’t pay it much attention, it could be a late-night shift, or stocker showing up to work, but he knew the car that pulled up. A violet ancient oldsmobile was hard to forget.

Especially when Tim had spent six months tailing it last year. Six months waiting and watching for something, anything that tied the Alkali family to the volatile strain of heroin that flooded the streets after they moved in. Six months of kids showing up in hospitals because that same heroin had poisoned them from the inside as the packets they’d swallowed had burst. Of knowing that the Alkali’s were behind it and not being able to do a thing because they were squeaky clean. Of nothing before a bust went wrong and the family faded into the shadows again, their drugs with them.

“Shut up. Just shut up.” Tim said, leaning forward, one hand going to fiddle with his lenses on his mask to zoom in on the scene before them.

Next to him he caught Dick mumbling something about having not been the one talking. Tim jabbed a finger towards the car and his brother’s chatter stopped. He felt more than saw Dick lean forward as well, his brother’s attention fixing on the the men getting out of their car below. The air between them seemed to still as both Dick and Tim waited for one of the men to turn and show their faces. When they did Tim felt the air rush into him all at once. Tim had memorized the faces of every one of the Alkali family, and the one leaning up against the side of his beat up car talking on the phone was Justin Alkali.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone meets up at the cave and Dick plays mother hen to his family.

Dick leaned against the desk next to Tim as his brother pulled up every file the cave’s computer had on the Alkali family. He blinked and another group of folders opened on the screen. He blinked again and there were more. He’d stood there watching him pull up the files since they’d returned from patrol and still he had no answers as to what had Tim so riled up.

“Are you ever going to tell me who these guys are?” Dick asked after a moment.

Tim paused and turned in his chair to look at him, he blinked as if seeing Dick for the first time then frowned. “You don’t know?” he trailed the word before seeming to realize the reason.

“That’s right you were dead. Well not dead. Fake dead.”

“A mistake that I’ve apologized for many times.” Dick said, then at a look from Tim he held up his hands in surrender, “And will to continue to apologize for. I am sorry, Tim.”

The accusatory look lasted another few seconds before Tim let it drop, replaced by his business face. The one where his eyes didn’t quite see you, and his words could run together if he were excited. Except he wasn’t excited and Dick was pretty sure that this explanation wouldn’t be the kind to make any of his words run together.

He turned to the computer and pulled up a series of pictures. In one a thirty-something man getting out of the Oldsmobile. The next had a young woman on the arm of the man they’d seen earlier that night. Another with a boy who looked just over eighteen, his brown eyes still fresh with youth as he laughed at the table of a coffee shop. The last one featured an older man, his hair streaked with grey, staring- it seemed like- straight into the camera as he left a building.

“These are the Alkali’s. They came to Gotham while you were running around the world doing—” Tim paused to turn back to him, “What were you doing again? Saving the world from bad spy movies?”

“More like stopping an evil spy organization, and again, sorry.”

He promised himself he’d pull Tim aside, soon, and talk about his time at Spyral. For all her anger at him, Barbra had been the one eager to learn about Dick’s time as an agent. It was his brothers who’d been too angry to listen. Maybe just talking it over, and telling some stories would help. He’d promised himself he’d talk to both Tim and Jason about Spyral after he’d told them he was alive, but he’d let time get away with him. After he was done with Spyral, he’d thought. After he was back in the groove of Nightwing. After, after, after. It was long past time for him to open communication again and at least let Tim air some of his grievances.

Tim accepted it and turned back to the screen. “From what Bruce and I can tell, they were in Gotham for a few months setting up a legitimate business before the drugs showed up.”

“Well that’s just too obvious. Alkali’s and drugs? I can’t even joke about it.” Dick gave Tim a half smile.

“Jason tried them all last time. Besides, it got less funny the longer it went on.” Tim frowned as he pulled up another file, it had statistics for crime rates, hospitalizations, and deaths resulting from the image at the top of it. A grainy bag of powder with the labels: Heroin and White Ghost.

Dick swallowed, his own grin fading as he read the information. The numbers were high. Higher than he cared to count. But he was here, and this time they’d caught wind of the Alkali’s early, hopefully that would give them an edge.

He put a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “We’ll get them this time.”

Their conversation was broken by the batmobile as it pulled into the cave followed by Jason with Steph on the back of his motorcycle. Dick couldn't help but feel a surge of pride watching everyone assemble. For all the trouble Mindbender had caused he’d at least done some good, Dick decided as he watched Jason put both his and Steph’s helmets away. He gave his brother a small wave as Jason found an open spot at the desk on the other side of Tim to lean against.

He liked to joke about the cave getting too cramped, but as Steph made a beeline for the elevator, where Cass was stepping out from, and Bruce and Damian moved from the car he felt more at ease than anything. It was almost like he was a kid again, taking in the bustle of the circus around him at the end of the night. Everyone tired, but working together to finish packing up for the night. The way, even as cramped as they were, they easily stepped around each other and worked in a harmony of chaos. It was a kind of busy Dick was grateful for.

The girls headed for the locker rooms to change, a night of studying planned for Steph, and distracting planned for Cass. Bruce and Damian were discussing something that Dick couldn’t quite hear, but seemed both unharmed and in high spirits as Damian was already pulling off his mask and cape.

That was a relief to Dick, it had been a while since Damian and Bruce had patrolled on their own together and he’d had a trickle of doubt about them getting along the entire time. He was happy to have found himself wrong. Jason on the other hand didn’t seem nearly as at ease as he had when they’d left. He’d been brooding since he’d pulled up and his lack of a hello or wave seemed to indicate something had happened.

He stepped over to Jason and bumped shoulders with him. “How’d it go?”

His brother shrugged. “As well as expected.” his mouth creased into a frown. “Found something troubling though.”

“You too. What--” Dick started to ask, but Damian’s voice interrupted him.

“Grayson, I need your assistance settling something with Father.” The boy was frantically waving him over to where he’d perched on a railing. Bruce stood next to him, cowl down with the hint of a smile on his mouth.

Jason rolled his eyes and motioned for him to answer Damian. “Go talk to the Babybat. I’m sure it’ll come up in the debrief.”

Dick nodded and crossed to find Damian’s and Bruce’s conversation having temporarily moved past whatever the minor squabble had covered. It was renewed solely so Dick could agree with Damian that yes he had once fallen asleep on patrol and yes it had been as Batman.

He pushed Damian’s cape and gloves over from where they’d been slung so he could join his brother’s perch on the railing and wondered for a brief moment if Bruce had dozed that night. His father’s noncommittal grunt and stalking to find Tim didn’t give Dick much to go on, not that it ever did.

“So.” He hummed, when Bruce was far enough away, “Did B fall asleep tonight?”

Damian’s grin all but confirmed it.

“Please tell me you got it on camera.”

“Tt. I’m no fool, Grayson. Of course I did.” Damian said.

Dick held up a hand for a hive five and after a moment Damian returned it. “Before you go to bed send me those.” he told him. “They’ll go nicely with all the ones I have of you passed out in my cape.”

Damian grumbled but made no move to either strike or stalk off like he might have on the night in question, instead he crossed his arms. “I’ve told you, I was not sleeping. Only closing my eyes against your incessant rambling.”

“So your snoring was also a way to drown out my talking?” Dick teased.

At that moment Alfred came down to the cave, a tray of sandwiches with him. Damian ignored Dick’s comment while he jumped down to grab two sandwiches from Alfred before the older man moved to where Bruce, Tim, and Jason had congregated around the computer. Damian returned to his place on the rail and handed Dick one of the sandwiches.

Dick took it and let his attention follow Alfred around the room as the man chatted for a moment with Tim, slipping two sandwiches on the keyboard in front of him, and then as he moved to Jason who grinned as he took the whole platter. Dick could picture the half scolding half smiling look on the butler’s face even from behind. He’d been on the receiving end of the same kind many times himself. Probably more than any of them Alfred was happiest to have Jason back. Dick was sure he’d been the one to tip Damian off that Jason was thinking about leaving by planting the Princess Bride book in his room.

“How’d patrol go tonight?” Dick asked between bites.

His brother didn’t answer, and when Dick looked over he realized why. Damian was focused on the computer across from them. Tim had the Alkali information pulled back up and he, Jason, and Bruce were all ringed around the consol.

The boy’s attention jumped to Dick and he frowned. “Did you know about this?”

“If by this you mean what you see on the screen, then kind of. Tim and I saw one of the guys tonight.” Dick answered. “Why do you know who they are?”

Damian jumped back down from the rail and rolled his eyes at Dick. “Unlike you I made it a point to catch up on cases I missed while I was away.”

Dick didn’t miss the way his brother’s voice faltered over the word away. He wasn’t usually shy about mentioning his death. He wasn’t at Jason’s level of joking, but he also didn’t avoid the word or force silence about the subject. Dick’s heart constricted at the thought of Damian’s death, his brother should have never gone through that, never needed resurrecting. But it had happened and all that was left was dealing with the outcome.

He wondered if Bruce had ever sat Damian down for a conversation about his dying and return to life. He was sure his father had planned on it, but time had a way of washing those things away, like it had washed Dick’s commitment to talk to Tim about Spyral away. Plus. it was easy to forget, with how unaffected his brother acted, that he could be dealing with emotions tied to it. Emotions that, as hard as he tried to control them, were probably cropping up again because of Mindbender.

“I want to help.” Damian said, strolling towards the group.

Dick hurried after him. From what Tim had said earlier that night he wasn’t confident Damian would do much but put himself in danger if he tried to help. Highly competent though his brother might be, the Alkali case was one best suited to the adults. No family in their right minds would let a twelve year old go undercover with a mob, especially if that twelve year old was trying to find something to distract him from his own thoughts.

He assumed Bruce would be the first to voice dissent, but his adopted father seemed to be looking over Damian with a considering eye. Was it a result of patrol, or was he trying to come up with a way to make his youngest think he would be helping? Bruce glanced up at Dick, and Dick knew it was the latter, Bruce had no intention of letting Damian help. Something passed between them, a mutual need to keep Damian off the case. Dick opened his mouth to start what he was sure would turn into an argument, but Jason beat him to it.

“No. There’s no way you’re going out there.” He pulled a bag from his pocket and held it out towards Damian. “You know what this is? It’s heroin, the same stuff they were selling last time. The same stuff that put all those people in the hospital.” He jerked the bag towards the statistics up on the computer.

Damian crossed his arms, unmoved. “I could tell as much from the bag, Todd. What’s your point?”

“The point is, I got this off a kid I know, who got it from the Alkali’s. If they’re using kids to move their drugs there is no way I’m letting you get mixed up in it.”

Damian’s arms dropped to his sides, fists balling. “That’s all the more reason for me to help. I can be an asset, and collect information from the inside out.”

“Jason’s already agreed to go undercover with them, Damian. We only need one person in there.” Bruce said.

“Besides.” Tim turned his chair to face Damian, “If they stick to their pattern from last time the Alkali’s will have them hide most of the packets on their person, but they’ve also been known to have them swallow some if they’re planning to move them out of Gotham or through a secure location.”

Dick’s own fingers curled into fists at the thought. Drug mules. They were going to turn kids into drug mules. It was a stupid system even for adults, but for kids? If one of those packets burst while inside them the results would be catastrophic.

He glanced down at Damian, the boy’s face was calculating for a moment, weighing the risks before he spoke again. Dick knew what he was going to say. That he could handle it. Better him than some random kid with no experience. Then he’d list off all the poisons, toxins, and who knew what else his mother had trained him against and Dick’s heart would break more at that thought alone.

His hand went to Damian’s shoulder. “Not this time.”

He kept his voice quiet, but when Damian looked up into his face he saw the kid read something there, and he watched the resignation settle in Damian’s features. It wouldn’t last long, but he’d won this round. He just had to come up with a plan to keep Damian distracted enough that he wouldn’t have time to try and help.

“I’m not pulling you because I don’t think you can handle it, Damian.” Bruce’s voice brought both their attention to him. “Jason, Tim, and I will be busy with this from now until it’s resolved, and we need someone to take over our cases while we’re busy. You and Dick are the best choices for that.”

Dick glanced at his brother looking for his reaction. Damian considered his words for a moment before he nodded and crossed his arms.

“Fine, but do not hesitate to ask for my assistance if you need it. Despite popular opinion, I would be fine going under cover.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a few days later and Jason's frustrated. With the case, with himself, and well pretty much everything else. At least he's got patrol to help him wor some of it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm not on any kind of real updating schedule, but I wanted to let you guys know that the week of the 12th (Monday) there most likely will not be an update to this. It's Tumblr's Batfam week and that's all I'll be posting that week. Hopefully I'll have all those stories written and can take the week to write the next two chapters of this, but only time will tell. Thanks so much for bearing with my awkward schedule and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Jason was ready to hit someone. He hadn’t run across anything in the hours he’d been out on patrol. No muggings, petty thefts, or any of the men he was actually looking for. Nothing but a cat stuck up in a tree. Which was really more Damian’s territory than his, but he wasn’t with Robin tonight which meant it was him who got his new leather jacket scratched instead of the kid.

He jerked his motorcycle to a stop at a red light and sighed. It wasn’t the lack of activity that was frustrating him. That was part of it, but it was far from the top of his list of reasons his fists were itching to knock an idiot's teeth out. He was angry at everything. Maybe not everything, but it was close enough. 

They were getting nowhere fast. Sure it had only been a few days of searching, but Jason wanted things to move faster. His stomach turned at the idea of any kids,  _ his kids _ , getting wrapped up with the Alkalis. The sooner they caught them the better. The fastest way he knew to gather evidence was going undercover. Bruce had seemed ok with the idea, but he was insisting on doing things the old fashion way first, scaring info out of criminals. 

The problem was they had nothing so far. Tim hadn’t been able to find a trace of the Alkalis attempting to re-enter the business word, and Jason hadn’t been able to find anything in the criminal one either. Just a bunch of his kids, kids he checked in with regularly, either missing or unwilling to talk to him as the Red Hood. 

The light turned green and Jason sped through, his mind still on the kids. Luke, at least, was fine. Jason was sure of that. He had Tim keeping an eye on him, and he was playing with the idea of asking Damian to check on the kid, if he needed a way to keep his youngest brother out of trouble. So far Dick had been doing a good job keeping Damian distracted with other cases, but that could only last so long. 

“Find anything?” Bruce’s voice was in his ear but Jason didn’t jump. He’d been waiting for the question.

“No.” He couldn’t stop the growl in his voice. 

“It’s fine. Tonight we’ll regroup and figure things out.” 

Regroup. It meant they were changing tactics. Moving away from pounding the pavement to something else. Probably the undercover work they’d discussed at the start of all this. Good. Undercover meant he could finally feel like he was doing something. 

“Tim and I can finish up. Head home and get some rest.” Bruce continued. 

He turned left, his movements on autopilot. “Not yet. I want to check with a couple more kids first. How’s everyone else?” 

There was a movie theater he knew where a few of his kids liked to spend time. They did fifty cent tickets on Wednesdays and he was sure he’d find a few of them there. If he could count on anything it was finding kids at the movies, he knew he’d snuck into his fair share of them at their age himself. It was the best distraction from life, and a chance to get off the streets or away from people he couldn’t quite face for a few hours. 

“Black Bat and Spoiler are finishing up at the docks.” Bruce answered.

They both knew Jason could check on any of them if he felt like it, but asking Bruce was a way to keep the conversation going. Except for Steph Jason was having the hardest time figuring out how to interact with his father, and while work talk seemed grasping, it was easy. There was rarely anything that could hurt him in talking about patrol. Plus it kept the connection between them open. He needed to connect with Bruce, his contentment with staying at the manor was slipping away. Everytime he rushed past his father or got one of Steph’s ‘I’m watching you’ looks he lost a little more of his resolve to stay and fix things. 

Steph hadn’t cooled off on him at all in the days since she and Cass had returned. Despite numerous elbows and prods from Cass, and even one hushed conversation Jason had rushed past between Tim and Steph, the girl hadn’t budged.  _ He tried to kill you more than once. _ The anger in that whisper had been enough to tease thoughts of ducking off to a safe house into Jason’s mind. 

“Nightwing and Robin are taking a break. There was some heated discussion about the importance of eating before patrol, though I couldn’t tell you which was at fault this time.” Jason could hear the hint of a smile in Bruce’s voice. 

It was Damian that kept Jason in the manor. Not the way Alfred smiled every time he entered a room, or Cass’s extra attention. It wasn’t Dick’s attempts at bonding and reconciliation or Tim’s at including him in everything. Or how just at home he felt there, tucked in his favorite chair in the library, a forgotten favorite in his hands. It was the kid, and his persistence, that pulled Jason back from the terror the kept creeping up when he thought of the future, or when he swallowed down angry words directed at Bruce.  

“My money’s on Wing, he spent the day out on some secret project of his.” Jason said, eyes glancing up at a yellow light, he could make it. He buzzed through and let himself grin, he was making good time. 

“Did he tell you what it was?” 

“No, but he seemed pretty serious about it.”

“Hmm.” 

Jason rolled his eyes and pulled to a stop at the theater. “It wouldn’t kill you to talk to him, you know.” 

He leaned over his handlebars to watch the front, he had a few minutes before the last showing let out. He’d made good time. And, he realized, he was feeling less like punching someone and calmer. The easy conversation between him and Bruce had a lot to do with it. If only they could manage something like this face to face, then it would be real progress.

Bruce hummed again before he answered. “I’m calling him.”

“What? Now?” Jason wanted to turn to him, almost did, but as close to his ear as Bruce’s voice was, the man was half a city away. 

“Of course. Don’t hang up, I might need you.” 

Jason wasn’t sure what to say to that. While he waited he got off his bike to lean against it, better prepared to make his way to the theater when the show let out. Even after the movie ended it would take time for everyone to make it out the doors, and who knew when the boys he was waiting for would come through.

Bruce’s voice came again, “It’s ringing, I can feel my heart rate slowing.” Jason frowned, a slowed heart rate was wrong, but still Bruce continued, “My oxygen levels are dropping and I believe I’ve lost feeling in my hands, let Cass know she was always my favorite."

Jason spluttered and almost lost his balance on his bike as the joke hit him full force. “Excuse me?” the words slipped out a moment before his brain caught up, “Was that a joke? From the Batman?” 

Over the other end of the line he could hear Bruce muffle a laugh. “Don’t get used to it.” 

The repressed laugh in the words gave them a tremble Jason hadn’t heard in a long time, it was...he wasn’t sure how it made him feel. It was nice, but a bit sad, and something he didn’t want to focus on because it would mess up the good he had going right now instead he laughed.

“Don’t even try to back out old man. Your mistake was reminding me you can joke, now the real question is are you funny or not?”

His father made an affronted noise from the other end of the line but Jason cut him off, seeing the theater doors swing open and people begin to pile through, two familiar faces mixed into the crowd. “Gotta go Bats, come up with some good lines for later.” 

He clicked the comm on silent and got off his bike. In the few steps it took for him to reach the growing crowd he’d already blended with them, hood and all. It was easy to slip between the two teens he was looking for and rest his hands on their shoulders. They looked up at the same time, blue and brown eyes widening. One swore, the other gulped. 

“Let’s have a chat.” 

~

Jason should have known it would come to nothing, he’d met with teen after teen and none of them had anything to say so why would these two be any different? Either the Alkalis had something to scare them into silence or they’d dropped off the map after their test run with Luke. Jason had the sinking suspicion it was the latter. 

That was it for him tonight at least, he was done searching empty alleys and pressing silent kids for information. It was time to get some sleep, or maybe read a little, anything to stop the worry churning in his gut. 

There was a flash of yellow and red ahead of him on a low rooftop making Jason slow his bike. A lumbering shadow chased the smaller figure. Jason’s eyes searched for the spark of blue that had to be coming. Three seconds was all he gave the scene before he was moving again, plans to sleep forgotten. 

He made it to the rooftop in time to see Robin inching back towards the edge. Jason knew he was looking for an opening against the approaching thug. He also knew Damian could handle the man in front of him with ease. Neither of those realities stopped Jason from seeing Mindbender instead of some two-bit thug advancing on his youngest brother. He’d been too late then, he wasn’t risking the same now. 

The rubber bullets in his guns wouldn’t kill but they’d hit hard enough to get his attention. He put two in the man’s back and knocked him out with the butt of his gun when he turned. Jason hadn’t been counting on him falling backwards instead of forwards. 

Behind him Damian scrambled to the side, then back, in an attempt to dodge the falling man, before slipping off the edge of the building. Jason charged over the fallen thug in a dive to catch his brother. He missed, but caught sight of green gloves gripping the edge of a window pane below, and let himself breathe. 

“You ok?” he asked as he peered over the edge. 

He couldn’t stop the grin that split his lips at the furious look Damian was giving him. It was stupid, but he felt like laughing. Adrenaline, panic, and frustration all seemed to fuel the laugh caught in his chest. Damian caught sight of Jason’s shaking shoulders and deepened his glower. 

“Don’t laugh! This is your fault! I could have handled him if you hadn’t come barging in.” He was attempting to pull himself up, his glare turned away from Jason for a moment to find a good hold to climb back up. 

“Your welcome for the assist.” Jason said, leaning down to rest his head on his palms, he’d help Damian, but he had an idea first. 

His brother returned his glare upwards. “I wouldn’t call knocking me off the roof an assist. If you wish to be of some use help me up.” 

Jason pulled a grapple line from his belt and dangled it lazily above his brother. “I have got some rope up here, but I do not think you would accept my help as I am only waiting around to kill you.”

Damian’s glare turned into a frown before he rolled his eyes up at him.They’d played this game before, quoting lines at each other. He’d been quoting Percy Jackson at Damian for a week since they’d started reading The Lightning Thief, but he was never one to waste a good opportunity to quote the Princess Bride. 

Jason grinned as his brother nodded solemnly, “That does put a damper on our relationship.” He could hear the bit of a smile in Damian’s voice and knew at least for the moment he’d been forgiven for accidentally knocking him off the roof.

“But I promise I will not kill you until you reach the top.” Jason said. He found a pole and tied one end of the grapple to it for support before returning to the ledge. 

Somehow Damian had found a foothold on the window and had leveraged himself in. The corner of his mouth twitched up at Jason. “That's very comforting. But I'm afraid you'll just have to wait.”

“I hate waiting. I could give you my word as a Spaniard.” Jason said throwing a hand over his chest in a mock promise. 

Damian shook his head, the grin slipping further into place even as his tone was serious. “No good. I've known too many Spaniards.”

“Is there any way you'll trust me?” Jason asked, even as he was lowering the grapple to Damian. 

His brother took it and tugged, testing it’s hold. “Nothing comes to mind.”

Jason took hold of his end and checked again to make sure Damian was ready. “I swear on the soul of my father, Domingo Montoya, you will reach the top alive.”

Damian nodded. “Then pull me up.”

Jason did and soon Damian was stretching next to him as Jason zip-tied the thug. He kept looking around like Dick was going to show up at any second. If he did Jason wasn’t sure what he’d say. Yell at him for leaving Damian behind? Probably not, the likely situation was that Damian had ditched Dick. The question was why.

“Where’s Wing?” Jason asked, straightening. 

Damian’s easy smile, left over from their successful quoting faded. He shrugged. 

“B said you two were grabbing some food, don’t tell me you were so mad at him for missing a meal you left?” Jason knew that wasn’t the reason, just like he knew it had been something they’d talked about. His mind flitted back to Dick’s day long secret mission. 

Damian kicked at dust and shrugged again. Jason put a hand on his shoulder and moved him to the edge again where they sat down. He pulled his helmet off, knowing even with masks face to face was better than making Damian look at an impassive red blob. 

“Whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as last month.” 

Damian bit his lip. “He wants to move.” 

Maybe it was as bad as the previous month, at least in Damian’s eyes. Dick moving anywhere, even next door to the manor, was sure to set Damian on edge. He’d likely see it as the man wanting to be away from him. Which was stupid. Dick had moved before, they’d separated when Bruce came back.

“He’s not leaving you, you know that right?” Jason said, it wasn’t in him to beat around the bush and try to make Damian admit it. 

“Tt. I know that. It’s just.” Damian’s chin sunk to his chest, he held his hands in his lap, tumb running across the top of one. “He’s here now. Why does he have to leave?” 

Jason leaned back on his palms and kicked his feet against the building, “For the same reason I keep my safe houses and Tim keeps his apartment: space. It doesn’t mean he won’t be around or that anything will change beyond his location.” 

“But it will!” Damian turned to him now, hands flying from his lap to rest on the brick below him. “Everything will change again, and it just went back to feeling normal.” 

The childish outburst might have shocked Jason a month prior, but he’d spent a lot of time with his brother. Enough to know that under the bluster and bravado Damian was just as much of a kid as he looked. He’d seen and done a lot that no kid ever should, but it didn’t change his age, nor the feelings that came with it. 

“You know Dick won’t let that happen, he won’t let you get displaced in the changes. And if he does, I’ll make sure he knows just how much he’s messed up. But you have to be open to him making his own decisions. You can’t just unpack his bag and make him stay.” 

Damian gave him a half smile at that. “You didn’t need to leave.” 

“And he’s ready to. We’re all changing, even you.” Jason poked his shoulder.

Damian shifted a bit, rubbing the spot Jason’s finger had been. “Of course I am, Pennyworth says I have gained another inch. Soon I’ll be taller than you.” 

Jason laughed at that. “Keep wishing, Tater Tot.” he stood, “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back.” 

Damian stood, but was hesitant to follow. “What about, Grayson?” 

“We’ll call him on the way. I’m happy to let your mother hen know I’ve found his lost chick.” Jason slipped his helmet on and darted across the roof, an angry Damian hot on his heels. 

When they reached his bike he shoved his extra helmet into the kid’s hands. “Put it on.” 

“I’m not a baby.” Damian grumbled, “Or a lost chick for that matter.” 

“And, I don’t want to explain how your skull cracked open to Dick or Bruce. So, helmet on.” Jason said, climbing onto the bike. 

He heard the snap of a clasp a moment before his brother climbed on behind him, his arms going around Jason’s middle. They still didn’t quite reach all around, but he blamed that more on his bulk than Damian’s effort. 

It was late, and he didn’t want to admit how tired he was. He was happy to have Damian with him as a reason to stay awake. Every so often the boy’s arms shifted, reminding Jason that it wasn’t just him on the bike now. 

They were riding the almost empty streets leading to the manor when he remembered he needed to let Dick know he didn’t need to look for Damian. He opened a channel with his older brother. “Wing, you there?”

Dick’s response was immediate. “I thought you were already back at the manor.” 

“I was on my way when I came across a lost bird, you know him?” 

Both over his shoulder and in the comm he heard Damian grumble. “I was  _ not _ lost.” 

“Damian.” The relief in Dick’s voice was palpable, and Jason felt Damian’s arms tighten a bit around his waist.

Jason moved the bike around one of the winding turns. He played with the idea of teasing Dick about keeping a closer eye on his partners but decided to let it drop. Picking on Dick meant picking on Damian right now and he’d done enough of that for the night. 

“I’m bringing him back, so feel free to call it a night whenever.” 

He took the next turn fast and harder than he should have. He knew the moment he did it that it had been the wrong move as twin lights from up ahead blinded him for a moment. Jason swerved, overcompensating for what was probably a car in their right place. Behind him Damian pulled in a sharp breath, it wasn’t a cry but it might as well have been. 

His front tire slipped, catching the wrong way on the road and the bike tumbled. Jason’s first thought was to grab the arms around him and yank Damian around as they fell. He curled himself around his brother as they rolled through dirt and rubble, Jason’s back slamming to a stop against a tree trunk, knocking what little air he had out of him. 

Jason’s only consolation to his racing heart was the boy tucked against his chest, safe, but shaking from adrenaline. It took him a moment to separate the voice in his ear from the blood pounding through his head. 

“Jason! Damian! Answer me!” Dick’s voice carried all the same panic it had a month ago when they were storming Mindbender together. 

“He’s fine.” Jason said through rasping breaths, arms tightening around Damian. “He’s ok. We’re ok. Bike slipped on the road.” 

Damian was pulling himself out of Jason’s arms, and he wasn’t quite ready to let the boy go, but everything was starting to ache and his grip slipped open easier than he’d wanted it to. Damian sat back and looked Jason over before turning his attention behind them at the smoking mess of the bike. 

“Todd’s down.” Damian said. It took Jason a moment to realize it was to Dick and not him. “The bike is wrecked. We will need a ride.” 

“I’ll bring a car. Don’t let Jason break anything else.” Dick’s panic had faded to something more like anger.

Jason pushed himself up against the tree and winced as his left ankle twinged, he’d hurt it in the fall, how badly he wasn’t sure. He didn’t really care either, not yet at least. He reached out and pulled Damian’s shoulder, turning the boy to face him. 

“You ok?” Jason asked, hand going to straighten the helmet that was turned askew. 

“I’m fine.” 

Damian reached up to push Jason’s hand away. Jason caught his instead, pulling the boy’s arm towards him. Just above the thick protection of his gloves the fabric of his uniform was sliced open, blood already seeping though. 

“You're hurt.” 

“It’s a scratch.” 

“Your hurt.” Jason said again, swallowing back anger. He wasn’t mad at Damian, it was his own stupid actions that got them both hurt. 

His brother’s lips puckered into a frown. “And you're worse off. Or did you neglect to catalog your own injuries before blowing mine out of proportion?” 

Jason grimaced and turned his attention to his ankle, he poked at it and had to suppress a hiss. It was already swelling under his touch. His helmet had protected him for the most part as they’d crashed, but there was an ache at the back of his skull that suggested at least a slight concussion. His jacket was shredded, better that then his back. He should have taken the cat scratch as a sign of a bad night. 

“It’s just my ankle,” he said. “and I’m pretty sure this jacket’s seen it’s last hurrah.” 

Damian plopped down beside him, leaning against his side. “I’m glad to see your priorities are in order.” 

Jason patted the helmet still protecting his brother’s head. “Yeah, me too.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim reacts to the accident, a strange letter, and Steph's insistence on getting lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'd planned on getting this out sooner than I did and I'm sorry about that. I'm hopefully (fingers crossed) on a better schedule now and the chapters will flow faster from here on.

There was no way yelling wasn’t going to happen after patrol, Tim was sure of it. He wasn’t surprised when it happened the moment Dick, Jason, and Damian made it back to the cave. Even expecting it didn’t stop a headache from developing the moment it started.

He hovered as Bruce and Jason shouted at each other in the med bay with Dick trying (and failing) to mitigate the situation, before moving from Bruce’s angry wrapping of Jason’s ankle to Alfred cleaning and bandaging Damian’s cut. One look at that scene, Damian red faced and Alfred’s patience waning sent Tim to the computer. There at least he could be helpful.

Maybe.

If he could get a lead on anything.

He decided to work his way through each of the Alkali’s past business deals in Gotham. Maybe something in their history would point to what they were doing now. Normally he could work through noise and confusion, but it wasn’t until Dick helped Jason upstairs and Damian fled to who knew where that Tim could even think.

Then Bruce started pacing.

The rhythmic steps and swish of the cape made a noise just as, if not more, distracting than the shouting had been.

“It’s not his fault you know.” Tim said, glancing at Bruce.

Bruce shot him a look that said, ‘not now’. Tim pressed his lips together and frowned. He’d get nowhere with the man tonight. Bruce was too angry to realize the main source of his anger was worry instead of irritation with ‘stupid motorcycles and sons who don’t listen’. And he wouldn’t listen well enough to know who to direct the remaining anger at. Bruce might figure that out by morning, if Jason didn’t add any fuel to the fire.

As his knuckles rapped on Jason’s door he wasn’t sure what he was hoping for, comfort in Jason agreeing Bruce was in the wrong for being so angry? Confirmation that Jason wasn’t nearly as angry as Bruce was? Or a combination of the two?

“Hey.” He gave Jason a half wave as he stepped inside.

The room that hadn’t changed for years was finally starting to show Jason’s presence. He’d been spending so much time around the manor lately it was hard for him to keep storing his stuff anywhere but his room. Tim wasn’t sure when it started, but it had probably been something simple, like a jacket thrown over his chair in exhaustion.

After that, signs of life seemed to have slowly trickled their way into the room. Pictures were shifted around and added. Books re-sorted on his bookshelf, with some volumes from the library crowding the already full shelves. One resting on its back in front of the others, a scrap of paper sticking out halfway through. Other odds and ends moved or changed. Nothing too severe, but it was enough to jar Tim’s eye, once familiar with the practical time capsule the room had become.

Jason sat, back against the bed’s headboard, with his leg propped up on a pillow, reading. He seemed a lot calmer than Tim expected. At Tim’s hello he paused, finger pressing to the page and looked up with a smile. “Sup? B need me for something?”

He didn’t tag on an angry barb at the man which meant Jason’s earlier anger had to be a combination of adrenaline and shock from the event, and reflexive anger at Bruce’s overreaction and not something worse building between them. They had enough problems without adding misplaced blame for a motorcycle accident to the list.

He shook his head, “He’s too busy being angry at everything. I came to check on you.”

Jason put a hand to his chest and gave Tim a touched look, “Aww, Timbo, I didn’t know you cared.”

Tim walked over to stand by his bed, and smiled down at him. “Don’t get too excited, I’m only worried because this puts back our plans a week."

“Right, because you're too scrawny to pass as a drug dealer.” Jason grinned and pointed the book at him, “You know, we could try to pass you off as an undernourished teen. You’ve got the baggy eyes and stick thin frame to do it.”

“Ha ha.” Tim said. “I wouldn’t dare. Damian would be furious if I did that.”

Jason’s grin slipped, the book dropping back into his lap. “He hasn’t offered to go undercover again, has he?”

He shook his head. “No, he still seems happy enough to take over my old cases and tell me just how much better he’s doing at solving them than me.”

“That’s good. Bruce isn’t giving him too hard a time for running off is he? I know he’s worried, but the accident wasn’t Damian’s fault.”

Tim snorted. “Not his fault? Neither of you would have been there if he hadn’t run off like a baby.”

“He’s a kid, Tim. He can get upset about his brother wanting to make a big life change.”

Tim crossed his arms, “He’s an assassin, and constantly reminding us he’s ‘older than he looks’. Forgive me if I treat him that way once in a while.”

There was that familiar sting that came up with Damian. Jason used to understand, he had always been on Tim’s side about Damian. But here he was defending the kid when he should have been backing Tim up.

It was Damian’s fault this time. He never should have run off, he was constantly complaining that they didn’t treat him like an adult, and when Dick decided to trust him with his worries about moving he bolted at the first sign of trouble. That didn’t scream adult to Tim, it said child. And this time his wishy washy attitude had gotten someone else hurt and had set back their plans. Which meant more drugs and more people being hurt by them. So yeah, Tim was mad.

“He’s not an assassin. Not anymore.” Jason said, pushing himself to sit a little higher against the headboard, “Bristly yes. Highly trained and wicked smart, sure. And maybe he leaps before he looks more often than not, but he’s still a kid and he’ll react that way. Or do you want him to go back to being all murder and no fun?”

Tim scowled, “Of course not. That doesn’t excuse him from responsibility. I thought you’d agree with me on this. Bruce isn’t blaming him either.”

“And he shouldn’t. I was the driver, Tim. I let my mind wander and got surprised on the road, while I had a kid with me. I am at fault for this.”

“No.” Tim said. He was going to dig his heels in on this one. “You were heading back. It’s his fault he was out and in need of help. You would have made it home safe if you hadn’t stopped to waste time and energy on him.”

Tim probably sounded like a jealous little brother, mad that the baby was getting attention. And he wasn’t. Or was he? Damian was taking everything, first Tim’s spot, and now the one family member Tim could say he’d been mildly close to. He’d even done Tim’s job, bringing Jason home. A job Tim had struggled to do since he knew Jason was alive.

He’d always known how deep a place in Bruce’s heart Jason held. And Tim wanted to fix the broken man he’d come to love as a father. He wanted to bring the lost sheep home, and past all his efforts and attempts Damian had done it. With big eyes, and tenacity, and that stupid heartbreaking face he’d carried the whole time Dick couldn’t remember.

There was no way Tim could have replicated the need Damian provided, the need to put aside squabbles and the past so a hurting kid could be taken care of. And it worked. Jason went from easing his way into the family to full on (almost) moving back.

Tim should be happy. And he was. He was. He just hated that it hadn’t been him. What place did he have left if he wasn’t Robin? Wasn’t the one to protect Bruce? If he wasn’t the one holding the family together? They seemed to be doing fine on their own. He felt like he had become dead weight, the someone that never really belonged.

All he had left was making sure Bruce and his family was happy. And to keep Bruce happy Jason needed to stay, and stay in his good graces. Which put this whole incident as an issue in Tim’s mind. He wasn’t really in the mood to help either of them right now.

Jason sighed. “We can play the blame game all night, Tim. What’s done is done. Bruce’ll calm down soon enough, and I’ll be back on my feet faster than even Alfred thinks. We’ll be fine.”

Tim wasn’t sure he believed him. Things hadn’t moved enough that he wasn’t still worried that one little thing might set off Jason and Bruce and drive a new wedge between them. They hardly talked, Jason might be home but he and Bruce hadn’t fixed anything yet. That at least Tim could work on, as long as things like motorcycle accidents didn’t get in the way first.

* * *

Tim didn’t sleep well that night, not that he slept much. He snuck back down to the cave once he saw Bruce had left and continued where he’d left off searching through the Alkali’s past business files. He poured through them until his eyes itched with the need to sleep.

His dreams were filled with motorcycles and the Batman stalking the manor. He was a huge figure, ready to throw out unwanted guests, getting closer and closer to his room as he threw open doors and stomped down hallways. And Dick wondered why he liked pulling all-nighters.

The accident from the night before was still sending ripples through the manor, so he joined Bruce and Alfred instead of finding his own way to Wayne Enterprises. He curled himself into the plush seat and willed the time in the car to be ample rest for the exhaustion wearing down his bones.

To his relief Bruce didn’t try to make more small talk beyond ‘good morning’ and ‘how did you sleep’? He was still nursing some anger against Bruce for his overreaction the night before.

He’d been planning to dart up to his office the moment they pulled up to the building, but something stopped him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when he got out of the car, and it wasn’t from the chilly morning air. He felt like eyes were staring at him, but he couldn’t figure out where the feeling was coming from.

He stuck close to Bruce through the lobby and up the elevator, his presence like a safety net against the odd feeling. It seemed to dissipate when Tim made it to his office and sat down, though he couldn’t stop himself from looking out the window and trying to spot a shady figure.

Work eased the worry out of his mind until he’d decided it had been the result of a bad night. Lack of sleep and stress could easily play tricks on his mind, so he chugged his coffee and let it go.

Until the mail came.

Tim wasn’t expected anything that day. Any memos or important information came in email now, and he was usually sure when packages would arrive. When Tasha handed him a small white envelope he almost thought she’d gotten the recipient wrong. His name written in bold black letters on the front kept him from handing it back.

All the worry from earlier came back in a sick flood that pooled in the bottom of his stomach as he slit the envelope open. He pulled a photograph out of the envelope. It was a picture of him and Steph at a coffee shop he frequented. They were walking out of the door, drinks in their hands. Steph was smiling, and Tim’s face was completely scratched out with black pen. The lines were harsh and jagged, covering his face and the rest of his head, a few jutting out across the storefront and his arm. A few were so deep they perforated the back of the picture with small ragged holes.

He flipped it over to find the back blank. He left the picture on his desk and checked the envelope for anything else, a note or some clue as to why he’d been sent a desecrated picture of himself.

His mind went back to the threatening letter he’d received a week earlier. He still hadn’t figured out who’d sent that, but the handwriting on this envelope reminded him of what had been on the letter. Something told him they were from the same person, and the light threat he’d just about discounted was worse than he thought.

The door to his office swung open, and crashed into the doorstop with a thud. Tim jumped in his seat, flipping the picture face down on the table instinct making him slip it under his keyboard.

“You, me, lunch, now. I’m starving and I doubt you’ve eaten.” Steph said, walking in.

“Steph.” he said, his heart racing. “Knock before you come in.” he snapped.

Steph let the door fall shut behind her as she came in, leaning on one of the chairs in front of Tim’s desk. “There’s nothing you could be doing in here that requires me knocking.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, “It’s called being polite.”

She frowned. “What’s wrong? You don’t usually care when I barge in.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I do too care when you barge in.”

Steph straightened and shook her head. “Nope, you don’t. You sigh, you roll your eyes, you complain, but you don’t care. There’s something wrong.”

Of course there was something wrong. There were a million things wrong, the most pressing was tucked halfway under his keyboard right now, but Tim couldn’t tell Steph about that. She would overreact, she’d tell Dick and Bruce. Then all the attention would shift to Tim instead of them focusing on making sure Jason was comfortable. Tim didn’t want to alienate him that way, besides he was Tim Drake, the kid who’d figured out Batman and Robin. He could deal with one creepy stalker.

He figured he’d give her something, “I’m just tired. I’m stressed about the case and the stunt Damian and Jason pulled last night didn’t help.”

Steph crossed her arms. “I heard. What a mess, but at least neither of them got seriously hurt. The drama around it will calm down soon enough, if it hasn’t already.”

Tim sighed. “Maybe.”

Steph’s arms dropped. “Totally. Now about that stress, you know what’s relaxing? Going out, and grabbing lunch with a bubbly blond.” She stepped around the desk and Tim pulled his keyboard a little closer to him on the desk a moment before she snatched his arm. “I was thinking we could try that new Thai place down the street? It’s supposed to be great.”

He let her pull him to his feet, but stayed at his desk, he motioned down to the computer screen filled with an email he’d been in the middle of. “I’m busy, Steph. I can’t take a break for lunch.”

She tugged on his arm. “It’s Thai food, Tim. T h a i food. No one has the power to say no to that.”

“Then get it yourself.” he said pulling his arm gently away from her.

“It’s no fun to go alone.” Steph said. “I bet if I called Bruce he’d tell you to go.” She winked at him.

Something about Steph threatening to call Bruce made him feel like a kid who needed permission from their parent to go out and play. Tim sighed and clicked off his monitor, “Fine. Half an hour, tops.”

They waited for half an hour and still hadn’t been seated.

“Steph.” Tim sighed, tired of looking at the pattern of coconut trees and bikinied ladies on the shirt of the man across from him in the waiting area. “What are we still doing here?”

“I told you they were new, that means a long wait time.” She shrugged. “Your job can survive without you for a while. But, if you’re so worried, use your Wayne powers to speed us to the front.”

He frowned at her. “My ‘Wayne Powers’? What are you even talking about?”

She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together in his face. “Money, Tim. Just pay everyone to let you skip to the front of the line.”

He almost considered it. For a millisecond. So he could get back to his office and the threat under his keyboard. But being around Steph was easing some of the knots in his back and the exhaustion drowning him. Spending some time out, and around other people was helping.

He pointed at her. “No way. That is not a superpower, Steph.”

She chuckled. “If you say so.”

It took another ten minutes to be seated, but they got a nice spot outside in the shade. They ordered, chicken pad thai, pineapple fried rice, and spring rolls. Steph kept, sneaking her fork over to Tim’s plate to scoop up noodles whenever he was distracted with a spring roll.

“You could have asked.” He said, giving her a half smile.

She grinned around a bite of noodle, “It tastes better when it’s stolen.”

“Oh really?” Tim said, reaching out to scoop some of her fried rice, spearing a piece of pineapple in the process. “Let’s see.” He grinned before he popped the whole thing into his mouth.

“Tim!”

“Your right.” He said, “It does taste better.”

Steph huffed, but went back to her own lunch.

“So.” She said, after a minute. “Back to Jason and Damian.”

Tim resisted the urge to groan. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know where Steph was going with it. It was her demeanor that stopped him from changing the subject. She was tapping her fork against her plate as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“Yeah?” He prompted.

“What really happened during the crash? I mean did he really get hurt because he was trying to protect Damian?” She asked.

Of everything he was expecting her to say, asking about Jason’s character wasn’t it. He was happy enough to answer. Steph had been hard on him since she’d been back, and try as he might Tim hadn’t been able to talk her out of her mistrust.

He nodded. “Yeah, Damian said it was the first thing Jason did. The kid was furious about it, said he’d had worse falls on patrol, though I think he was more upset Jason got hurt because of it.” He speared another one of Steph’s pineapple slices.

Steph hummed, completely ignoring his food thievery. “Jason tried to kill you, you know.”

“Yep.” Tim said.

“And Bruce, and pretty much everyone else.” She added.

“That did happen.” Tim took the last spring roll and broke it in half, leaving the bigger half on his plate before he started pulling apart the piece of roll in his hands.

Steph let her fork drop onto the plate. “I don’t get it.” She said. “We leave for what, a month? And suddenly Jason’s all buddy buddy with everyone?”

Tim chuckled. “He’s not all buddy buddy, he and Bruce still barely talk.” He finished pulling the first half of the spring roll apart, letting it fall onto the plate. “He _was_ drifting back in before you two left you know.”

She ran the straw in her cup around the brim of her cup. “Yeah, but not to this degree.”

“You weren’t here for Mindbender, you didn’t see him with Damian.” Tim said, picking up the second half of the spring roll to shred. “He had to be a big brother, and Damian hasn’t let him stop.”

He let the rest of the pieces fall onto his plate. “Before you ask, I think he’d have gotten here eventually. Mindbender was just a catalyst.”

She eyed his plate. “I’ve been too hard on him, haven’t I?”

Tim smiled. “Just a little.”

“Ugh!” Steph threw her head back before she looked back at him. “That sucks. I’m going to finish the shredded mess you made of that roll, and then you are going back to work. I’ve gotten too much good advice from what was supposed to be an ‘uplifting’ lunch.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's recovery is interrupted by an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know it's been a while since this updated, but know I have no intentions of dropping this fic. I just ended up picking up more stuff to work on than I'd originally planned when I started writing this. Hopefully I'll balance updates between this and Super City better from here on out. Thanks for being so patient with this guys.

If there was anything good about being forced to stay at the manor day in and out resting his ankle, Jason would say it was getting to sit with Alfred in the kitchen. The man let him hobble around from time to time to help, but for the most part he was parked at the bar, joking and sipping on whatever he could sneak from the fridge or get Alfred to brew. Half the time it was tea, the other half a can of soda Tim had stashed there.

It was nice, Jason decided, getting to reconnect with Alfred. He’d stayed closest to the man over the years, but nothing had recaptured years past when Jason had been hot on Alfred’s heels in the kitchen, eager to help, and more eager to learn.

Cooking was a science and an art. Jason had never figured out why some people thought of it only as one thing or the other. It took knowledge to make food come out right, an understanding of how the chemicals in the foods combined and played off each other. It also required a keen eye and a gentle touch. Hand that could mold and shape the food, eyes that could pick out colors that looked beautiful on a plate, and a palate that made sure every flavor blended just right.

Alfred had taught him that, he’d seen Jason’s interest and used it as a way to give him another outlet in his life. Somewhere he could apply what he was learning at school and with Bruce in a more practical manner. One that’s end result was something tangible and satisfying.

Jason hadn’t told Alfred, but it also helped him feel useful. Like he was giving back to the people who’d taken him in. He figured the older man had realized that at some point, but part of Jason liked to keep it a silent reason.

He wished he had that now, a way to give back. Sure he was helping Damian, and he and Bruce spent more hours than Jason cared to admit tucked down in the cave working on a case, but none of those felt like really giving more than he had been from his apartment. Dick took care of Damian from anywhere, he took care of them all that way. And a case could be worked on no matter where Jason was.

He knew he didn’t need to do anything to earn his place in the family, knew that he wouldn’t be allowed to stay if he wasn’t welcome. That didn’t stop him from wanting to help. So he sat in his old spot and made Alfred laugh with wild stories, or smile at sweet ones, but did everything he could to keep him company while he worked. That at least could feel like he was doing something.

When he was shooed out of the kitchen so Alfred could move onto other things Jason moved to  tuck himself away in the library. He wasn’t allowed to pester the tater tot while he was working on school work, and everyone else was busy or in Dick’s case house hunting, so he had little reason to stick around the areas that got frequent traffic.

He was surprised to find both Tim and Bruce in the library, bent over a book. They’d both called it an early day at work and Jason had been sure they were down in the cave sifting through past Alkali information. They’d decided to take Jason’s injury as time to gather everything they knew about the family so Jason wouldn’t be walking in blind when Jason started his stint as an undercover man with the family.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” he asked.

Bruce and Tim looked up from the book and Jason had to hold back a chuckle, both had the wided eyed stare of people who’d spent too long reading without a break. Both blinked at him and Jason did laugh.

Tim frowned in confusion and Bruce raised an eyebrow at him.

“You two look like owls.” Jason clarified, hooking his crutches under his arms so he could put his hands over his eyes, fingers pressed together in Os to mime wide eyes.

Bruce looked back at Tim and chuckled, “He’s right, you look like I just caught you reading after six hours.”

“It’s close enough to that as it is.” Tim sighed, checking his watch. “We’ve been at this forever.”

Jason moved to the table they were at and took an open seat. “How can I help?”

“You know that Tim’s been going through the Alkali's old business records right?” Bruce asked.

Jason nodded and Bruce flipped the book’s cover up so Jason could see it. It was a copy of some old mystery series from the 70s, with a gold embossed spider on the front.

“They purchased an unusual number of these a month before the illegal half of their business started.” Tim said, finishing Bruce’s explanation.

“You think they’re using it as a cypher?” Jason asked, slipping the novel towards him.

“That’s one theory.” Bruce nodded.

He nodded, eyes already scanning one of the open pages. “What were you two doing, reading the whole book?” he asked.

Silence met him and Jason looked up to grin. “You were. You two got all caught up in the mystery while you were trying to solve a different one.” he picked up the book and leaned back with it. “Now I’m going to have to read the thing, just in case.” he winked.

Bruce chuckled. “I doubt full knowledge of it’s contents will be much help, but we were reading it. There’s another copy over in the W’s if you want to grab it.”

Jason let the book fall back onto the table with a nod, he reached out for his crutches before Tim’s hand stopped him.

“I’ll get it, I’ve got some other work I need to get to anyway. You two work on this one.” he said, standing.

Jason frowned at him but let the crutches fall back against the chair he’d leaned them on. “You sure you don’t want to stay? You two can catch me up and we’ll all get through it.”

Tim shook his head, already heading back to the books.

He thought about pushing to have Tim stay. He’d been acting odd lately, he wasn’t really avoiding Jason, more like he was trying to push him and Bruce together. He’d ease the two of them closer or back out of conversations they were all having. More and more often he’d do things like this, just leaving the two of them to work on the case.

It was worrying Jason in more ways than one. He’d been trying to be careful not to displace Tim as he’d squeezed back into the family. He knew what it was like to have to vie for attention, and he didn’t want to take Bruce’s away from Tim more than he had to. He’d had years to make things right with Bruce, taking things slow now that he was actually trying wouldn’t hurt anyone. Besides, it would mean Tim still felt like he had a home.

Jason couldn’t look at the kid without remembering every time he’d called him Replacement. It had been wrong, which is why he’d used it then, and wanted to apologize now. Except Jason hadn’t been able to find a good time to talk about it.

Before he’d started spending more time at the manor Tim had been an ally. The guy he went to on patrol and trusted not to rat him out to Batman, the one who seemed to forgive him, who’d moved past their rocky start with an understanding that dealing with Bruce could mess you up, and Jason had hit a rough spot he was working through.

He’d hoped that comradery would hold, but Tim’s behavior had changed, and despite Jason’s attempts to keep the boy around, and make him comfortable things were slipping. He wondered if he should talk to Bruce about it, but that too felt like a betrayal of trust.

“Let us know if you come up with anything, we’ll update you on the book later.” Bruce told him as Tim passed by, paperback volume in hand.

He waved his acknowledgment and passed through the door Jason had only just come through.

“He’s been pretty busy.” Jason said.

It wouldn’t hurt to at least help Bruce see that something was off with his second youngest. Jason was well aware of what it took to get him to see personal issues before they blew up and he didn’t want that happening with Tim. Sure, part of it could be fixed by Jason himself talking with Tim, but it wouldn’t hurt to have Bruce remind him that he belonged there too. Jason wanted to laugh at the irony, trying to get Bruce to reassure Tim of the same thing he was struggling with had to be some kind of cosmic joke.

“We’re all pretty busy with the Alkali’s.” Bruce said.

“Yeah, but Timmy seems to be handling it worse than usual.” Jason said. He was not going to say it outright.

Bruce flipped the book back open. “You think I should have him take the night off?”

Jason sighed. “That could help.” he said. “We should all take the night off, maybe stay in and play some games, or just get an early night’s sleep.” And maybe Jason could find a way to force Bruce and Tim to talk, or at the very least spend some time together.

Bruce eyed him for a minute before nodding. “It’s not a bad idea.”

He and Bruce tossed ideas about the book around for a while until Bruce left to tell Alfred about the change in plans and announce it to the rest of the family. At that point Jason picked up the book and moved to one of the library’s more comfortable reading chairs and read it cover to cover.

By the time he surfaced from the story he was sure he was as bleary eyed and ruffled as Bruce and Tim had been when he’d walked in on them. He rubbed his face to clear away some of the dreamy eyed look he knew had settled on him, and tucked the book under his arm, sure Bruce would want it either in his office or the cave.

It was late, but not late late like he’d missed patrol starting or anything, but Jason was still bothered by how quiet the manor seemed to be. Tucked away in the library it was easy to miss the comings and goings of the house's occupants, but he felt like there should be more movement now, Alfred at least should have come to get him for dinner.

He played a hunch and made a beeline for the cave.

There he found Bruce, Tim, Alfred, and even Damian circled around the computer. Dick must still be out, which was fine, any more people in the room and Jason was pretty close to turning around and letting them deal with the new crisis on their own. His peaceful day of rest had left him with a desire for more, and this looked to be anything but. Their chatter didn’t stop with the elevator opening, but the first click of his crutches on the floor had every head turn to him.

“I’m guessing this is about me.” he said.

“Gordon called, he’s got one of your kids down at the station and the boy’s refusing to talk to anyone but Red Hood.” Bruce said, clearing the air right away.

“And you’re trying to decide if it’s worth it to send me.” Jason said.

He leaned against the console, but didn’t have time to fully put his weight against it before Damian was dragging a chair over for him. He’d have complained that he was fine, only the priceless look of surprise on Tim’s face was enough for Jason to plant himself in the chair and thank his brother.

“I still think it’s a bad idea, Todd shouldn’t be going anywhere until he has recovered.” Damian said, and this time Jason did take offence.

“I’m not a china doll. I can handle a meeting.” he said, sitting up straighter.

“He’s right.” Tim said.

Damian scowled at him and Tim returned the look. Jason fixed his gaze on his second youngest brother. He was off, his face scrunched up in that way he did when he was trying to hide secrets from his family. Something had happened between when Jason had seen him last and now and Jason wanted to know what it was.

“Don’t look at me that way, Damian. It’ll give us a solid clue, or something close to it.”

“Finally, something more than you’ve been able to dig up.” Damian sneered.

“Stop.” Jason warned. “Leave your feelings about the accident out of this. Damian, maybe you should go find Dick.”

The boy’s scowl turned on him, mouth agape. He snapped it closed. “Fine, get yourself killed. I don’t care.” With that he stalked upstairs.

“Well that was smart.” Tim muttered.

“Shut it.” Jason snapped.

Alfred cleared his throat and Jason sighed.

“Sorry.” He said to everyone, he wished he was also saying it to Damian. Tim was right, what he’d said had been the furthest thing from smart.

“The young man who Commissioner Gordon put on the phone sounded sincere, and quite afraid.” Alfred said, his tone that of one who was insisting they get back on track.

Jason nodded. “Did he give his name?”

“Luke.” Alfred supplied, then added. “He refused to give a last name.”

“Don’t need it. I know Luke. Is he there because he came in or got picked up?”

Bruce frowned. “Picked up, but not for anything to do with the Alkali’s. He’s underage and was caught at a party with alcohol. The only reason he’s on our radar is that instead of giving his parents names he gave yours.” Bruce told Jason, “Then dropped the fact that he might have clues for a case we were on.”

Jason shook his head. “I’ll go, you guys stay here. The kid won’t talk to either of you. Though, he might be open to Robin.” He added as an afterthought.

It would keep Damian from acting on any rash impulses to keep him safe while he was out on a bum ankle. Impulse Jason himself had dredged up with his ill planned words. Bruce seemed to guess the same thing so he nodded.

“Let us know what you find out when you get back.” It was approval and dismissal wrapped in a sentence.

Jason left them and headed back up to find Damian. He had little intention of wandering the manor in search of his youngest brother so he sent him a text: _Living room or I’ll end up hurting my ankle more hunting you down_

It was dirty, but it did the job, Damian was down in the living room, scowl in place within a few minutes.

“What?” he snapped.

“I want you to come with me tonight.”

Damian crossed his arms, his scowl deepening. “I refuse to accept your pity invite.”

Jason sighed. “I’m sorry.” He said, “I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t want your help, or make you think I blamed you for this.” He pointed at his wrapped foot.

“You want to help, right?” This got a huff from Damian. “Then get dressed, you’re the only one Luke might talk to as well, and I know you don’t want me to go alone.”

“Grayson is expecting me to help with patrol.” Damian said.

Jason shook his head, "Haven't you heard? Patrol's cancelled for the night, we're watching a movie or something."

“Fine, but Pennyworth will drive us.” Damian insisted.

“Alfred would be happy to, I’m sure.” Jason agreed.

* * *

Jason was really hoping this trip would be quick. They’d wrapped and reinforced his ankle as much as possible, but it still hurt. He was sure this little excursion would set his recovery back a couple of days, but he needed to talk to Luke. If only to make sure the kid was okay, he’d told him to be careful, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little mad at the kid for not listening. He buried the anger, he wasn’t sure what had happened and would wait on final judgments for when he talked to him.

Damian was a solemn presence by his side, taking his job to keep Jason safe seriously. It would be funny, his little brother acting as his bodyguard, if Damian wasn’t so tense. It was obvious Jason’s assurance earlier had don’t little to erase the blame in his brother’s mind over Jason’s injury. He’d have to add sitting down with Damian to his ever growing list of people he needed to talk to.

He wondered if this was how Dick felt all the time. It was no secret Dick lived in constant motion trying to keep his friends and family together. Maybe Jason stepping in like this was giving Dick the breathing time he needed to make those big life decisions that had sent tremors through the manor’s peace. Or maybe he was making everything worse, both driving Dick away and causing added stress in the family. It could honestly be said that Jason was the cause of Tim’s increased stress and Damian’s current bout with guilt. What else had he inadvertently caused?

“Commissioner.” Jason greeted, as he and Damian met the man in his office. They’d slipped in through the window, to find him waiting, with Luke pouting in a chair.

“This is unorthodox, even for you guys.”

“Batman brought you up to speed on what we’re dealing with?” Jason asked.

“He did. We’ve already seen the rise in problems connected with this new strain, which is the only reason I’m even allowing this meeting. The kid should have his parents here.”

“I told you, they’ll kill me if they find out where I was.” Luke muttered darkly from his pout. “Hood’ll probably do the same, but at least with him it’ll be merciful.”

Gordon eyed Jason who shrugged.

“An exaggeration, on both counts.” he eyed Luke, even though the kid still wasn’t looking at him. “So, what have you got for us?”

Luke looked at Gordon and Robin and frowned. “In front of them?”

“If you don’t want to spend the night here and call your mom in the morning to explain why you were caught intoxicated underage.” Jason said.

The kid scowled. “I wasn’t drunk. I didn’t drink anything.”

“Then what were you doing at the party?” Robin asked.

Luke eyed Robin and his scowl deepened. “I thought you didn’t let kids help you, Hood?”

“I’m not helping him, we’re _partners_.” Robin all but growled at him.

Luke scoffed and rolled his eyes, his legs slipping out of the chair as he relaxed into arguing. Jason was glad of his mask so he could grin openly at the two boys. It had been a good idea bringing Damian along. Him being there was enough to help Luke open up in a stressful situation, even if he didn’t realize it.

“That implies helping.” Luke told him, his voice smug.

Robin spluttered. “Whatever. You still have not explained why you were at a party filled with underage drinkers.”

“That’s where your wrong. There were only a few underage kids drinking there.” Luke said. “And I wasn’t there to hang out with them.” He added. “I was there to watch them and see if they were selling.”

“I told you to stay out of the Alkali’s business.” Jason said, he couldn’t hold back the tint of anger to his tone.

“You _told_ me to let you know if I learned anything new. I was staying out of their business.”

“Stalking isn’t what I meant.” Jason sighed.

“It got news didn’t it?” Luke shrugged.

Robin tutted. “News we haven’t heard yet.”

Luke shot Robin a look and Jason was a little worried he might have to step in and stop as skirmish but Gordon cleared his throat and both boys seemed to relax. Luke kicked a foot against the leg of the chair he was on and shrugged.

“Stop interrupting me then.”

Damian huffed but stayed silent.

“I knew a couple of the older boys had been recruited by the Alkalis, they wanted to pull me in but I said no.” He gave Jason an I-told-you-so look, “Then they invited me to the party to see ‘just how easy it was’ to sell the stuff.”

He tapped a fist against his open palm. “I was hopin' to maybe get a photo of one of the Alkalis in action, but none of them were there. But I did find out that things are starting to get big and they’re lookin' for another guy to bring on.”

“Are they holding auditions?” Jason asked.

“Of a sort.” Luke said. “Won’t happen ‘till next week though.”

“Good,” Jason said. “That gives us enough time to figure things out.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's game night, but that doesn't mean it's not also time for Dick to have some talks he's put off for a while

Dick stepped into the manor to find the building quiet. From the kitchen to the living room, and each bedroom he couldn’t find a trace of his family. He knew they were there, he had a half an hour old text from Damian telling him to come home for a ‘stupid movie night’ which meant something had upset his brother beyond patrol being cancelled for a night in. 

The text had come while Dick was on his way back to the manor, most of the day spent apartment hunting. He was tired, grumpy, and frustrated by his lack of movement. He was happy enough to bury those feelings under worry over Damian. He couldn’t come into a conversation with him bogged down by his mood and hope to help anything, plus it meant he didn’t have to think about his own problems for a little while. Though, Damian was one of the things he was worried about. His brother’s reaction to his news, and subsequent accident was weighing on him. 

All that lay behind the mystery of the empty manor. Either everyone had left or they were in the cave dealing with a problem. It couldn’t be an emergency or Dick would have gotten a call or string of texts beyond Damian’s initial one. Still, thoughts of another accident had entered his mind, one or more of his siblings hurt from something stupid happening. Damian’s text mingled with the phantom images and hurried Dick’s steps searching through the manor. 

He found his family in the cave huddled around the computer talking, the only two missing were Damian and Jason.

“Anyone care to let me in on the secret?” he asked, keeping his tone light.

Their heads turned, and Tim took a step away from the computer. Alfred turned fully to him, smiling. 

“Welcome back, Master Richard, how was today’s search?” 

Nothing too terrible had happened then, Dick decided, as he let some tension ease out of his shoulders. No one’s postures seemed to be screaming emergency or even serious worry, but the room still felt tense. 

He shrugged. “Not as fruitful as I’d like it to have been. Where’s everyone else? I got a text about family night and only half the family’s here.” 

“Damian is helping Jason follow up on an Alkali lead.” Tim answered, “I’m not sure it’s still on.” he glanced back at Bruce as he said this, searching the man’s face.

Dick frowned, Jason shouldn’t be doing anything case related with his ankle, let alone Alkali related. That alone was probably the reason for Damian’s frustrated tone, and why he’d gone with him. Bruce seemed to be considering Tim’s pseudo question, and a glance at Alfred told Dick what he needed to know. 

“I don’t see why it shouldn’t. There’s no reason to change our plans unless Jason comes back with news of an imminent disaster. And I don’t know about you all, but I need a break.” 

Tim turned back on him, frowning. “We don’t have time to take breaks, Dick. We’ve wasted enough muddling our way through the Alkali mess and hospitals are already reporting higher cases of overdoses. This lead could be exactly what we need.” 

“It could.” Dick allowed, “But it could be nothing. And even if it is something solid, we might not be able to act on it tonight.” he sighed, “I’ve watched you three work this case, and frankly it’s exhausting you all. You know as well as I do that sometimes a rest is exactly what you need to help crack a case.”

“Dick is right.” Bruce said standing. “One night away from the case won’t hurt anything.” 

Dick whistled, “I didn’t think I’d see the day you agreed with me about taking a break.” 

“Don’t act like I don't know how to take a break, who was it that helped you skip school for a trip to Disney World?” Bruce said. 

“One time doesn’t mean you learned.” Dick grinned back before turning to Tim, “Though if you need tips on how to convince him to take you there twelve year old me wrote a whole guide on it.” 

This made his brother finally crack a smile, “I don’t know if I’d trust the words of present day you, let alone your younger self.” 

“Ouch Timmy, here I am, trying to give you some hard won advice--” 

“I can confirm the difficulty level for that was very low.” Bruce shot in.

Dick ignored his words and threw an arm over Tim’s shoulders before continuing, “ _Hard won_ _advice,_ ” he repeated, “and you’re going to cast it off like unwanted hand me downs.” 

“Dick, I help run Gotham’s biggest company, I’m pretty sure I could figure out how to convince Bruce to take me on a trip to Disney World.” Tim said, leaning slightly into Dick’s side. 

He pulled his brother a bit closer, “I’m just saying, those tips are gold.” 

Dick managed to herd Tim and Alfred back upstairs to wait on Jason and Damian’s return. Bruce insisted on staying down in the cave to wait on them, and Dick left him to it. He’d already agreed on the family taking a break, and had promised to chose a selection of appropriate games to play while he waited, so Dick wasn’t worried he’d get too wrapped up in anything and change his mind. 

His attention was more focused on Tim. 

He shot off a quick volley of texts to both Cass and Steph telling them when to be at the manor and why, then hooked an arm through Tim’s as he tried to sneak past.

“Nope, no more work for you tonight. You’re staying where I can keep an eye on you and resting that brain of yours.” 

Tim scowled at him, “There’s a lot I could be doing, Dick.” 

“And all of it can wait until tomorrow, Tim.” Dick said, eyeing him. 

His brother sighed and waved a hand out as if to say ‘fine’. “What did you have in mind?” 

“First the kitchen.” Dick said, pulling Tim by their linked arms.

“We’re not supposed to eat anything before everyone gets here.” Tim said, his voice arguing contrary to the feet following Dick. 

He glanced back at his brother, “Good thing we’re not going for food then. I left something in there when I came back.” 

Tim frowned at him, and opened his mouth to ask what it was, but Dick turned back around and pulled him the rest of the way to the kitchen, leaving him by the entry while he moved to the microwave and opened it up. Inside sat a cup of coffee from one of Tim’s favorite shops. He pulled it out and handed it to his brother, whose face lit up with excitement and confusion.

“Why do you have this?” 

“You’ve had it rough lately, and it was on my way back, I thought I’d grab one for you.” Dick said.

It had been the last thing he’d done before heading back, and he was happy to find it still warm after his drive and search of the manor. Though, he was sure Tim wouldn’t mind if it was ice cold. He was doubly happy it hadn’t also become a bribe to calm Tim down after a fight with Damian.

His brother smiled at him, “Thanks, really. Want to play some games while we wait one everyone to get back?” 

“Definitely.”  

They made it through a few rounds of Call of Duty before the game lulled into a loading phase and Dick spoke up. 

“I’m sorry for unloading on you the other night. About my wanting to move.” 

Beside him Tim took a sip from his cup, “It’s okay.” he said, “I’m happy you brought it up.”

Dick could feel something else in the air between them, and unsaid jab about him disappearing and telling everyone about a major life choice later. Tim wasn’t going to bring it up, he knew that. His brother wouldn’t want to start a fight, or to push him away, but Dick needed to talk about it.

“I’m sorry.” he said, “I know I can say it a hundred times and it won’t make what I did any better, but I am sorry.” 

Tim hummed beside him, a disbelieving sound. “What you did sucked.” he said. 

Dick could feel those unsaid words again, and he let the silence wait, let it drag them out of his brother.

“You let us mourn you.” he started, his voice something between angry and sad, “Worst of all you made me lose another brother, after losing so many people, you made me do it again, and for what? Some quest we could have all helped with? Some need to be the hero?”

He still wasn’t looking at Dick, but his fists were balled up in his lap, the controller forgotten beside him, his eyes staring holes into the screen in front of them. 

“Could you at least tell me why? And don’t say it’s because Bruce asked you. You’ve never listened to him before, I don’t understand why you would have done it then.” 

“It’s complicated.” he said.

Tim scoffed and moved to stand, but Dick grabbed his wrist and pulled him down so they were facing each other, Tim tightly coiled, eyes angry and hurt. Dick wanted to pull him into a hug, but that wasn’t going to work this time, not yet at least. 

“That doesn’t mean I won’t try to explain my reasons,” he told him, and some of the tension eased out of Tim’s shoulders. “Part of it was Bruce asking me, but at that point I would have gone to the moon for him. The way he looked at me, like I was going to shatter if the wrong thing happened, it was terrible. I couldn’t do anything to keep that look there.”

“So you left?” Tim snapped.

“I did what he wanted.” Dick explained, “And you’re right, I should have told you, Jason, Babs, and everyone else, but I didn’t. I didn’t want you to mourn me twice if things went wrong, I didn’t want you to get hurt being worried about my safety. And-” he broke off, unsure if he wanted to go further or not, to tell Tim something he hadn’t wanted to admit to himself.

“And I wanted to run away from everything, from my grief, and the place that took Damian from me. To hide from the people who would look at me with pity, and ask how I was doing ‘after everything’. I didn’t want to stop hurting, or maybe I wanted to stop the hurt by ignoring it, I’m not sure. I do know it was a bad decision either way.” 

Somehow he’d diverted his eyes away from Tim in his explanations, and now he was afraid to look at him again. He didn’t want to see the anger or hurt that was still there, because it didn’t matter why he’d done it. Tim was right, he’d let his family mourn him, mourn two brothers at the same time, and he shouldn’t have. 

“I’m so sorry.” he said again. “It wasn’t fair of me to put you all through mourning me because I couldn’t deal with everything.”

“You’re an idiot.” Tim told him, but his voice didn’t seem angry, and when Dick looked up, the anger had drained out of his face. Instead of everything being taut like one of their grapple lines, he’d sunk in on himself.

“And you're right, it wasn’t fair, but it’s done, and you’re back.” Tim said, “So just, don’t do it again, okay?” 

Dick couldn’t hold himself back, he reached forward and pulled Tim into a tight hug, “I promise.” 

His brother returned it before pulling away and nodding, “Good.” 

Tim moved to sit back against the couch again, and reached out to retrieve his controller. He didn’t offer to restart the game, instead he fiddled with one of the joysticks with his thumb.

“You know, you can let some stuff off your chest too.” Dick prodded, “I bet it’s been tough adjusting to everything.” 

He knew he was having a tough enough time adjusting. He’d hardly had time to adjust to Nightwing again after Spyral when all this hit, and now Jason was back, and Damian was opening up to him. Cass and Steph had decided to spend more time with them, and Dick was hurtling down a path of lazy days and late nights that left him itching to do more. He didn’t want to move too fast, but he couldn’t sit around much longer either. 

Tim nodded, still twirling the joystick, “Does the manor ever feel too small to you? I mean, I know it’s huge, but--”

“Sometimes you can’t find a quiet place to think?” Dick supplied, “Yeah, I know the feeling. You feel lost in all the people, but the thought of going back to your apartment feels too isolating.” 

Tim nodded, “Exactly. Lost is a good word. I feel like everyone’s changing but me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Dick said, reaching out to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Sometimes you’re not the one who needs to change.”

“What if I do?” Tim asked, now making eye contact, “What if I get left behind as everyone else moves forward?” 

“No one is going to leave you behind, Timmy.” Dick smiled, “We’d be lost without you.” 

He’d watched Tim shrink back after the Mindbender incident. He’d kept an eye on Damian the first week or so after everything, but, as the kid had demanded more and more of Jason and Dick’s time, Tim had somehow slipped out. Dick was as much at fault for it as anyone else was, overcompensating with Damian to make up for the week he’d put him through previously, but that didn’t excuse him from keeping an eye on the rest of his family. 

“I know Damian can be demanding, but he’s not the only little brother I have.” Dick gave Tim’s shoulder a squeeze, “Anytime you’re feeling left out you can come to me, and I’ll remind you of how much you belong with us.” 

Tim smiled at that, “Thanks.” 

“Anytime.” Dick replied. 

Tim seemed content with the conversation, and Dick didn’t want him to dwell too long on any reasons he might not belong, so he hoisted the controller in his hands and said, “Now how many more times do you think I can kick your butt in this game before Steph and Cass show up and crush us both?” 

“Kick my butt? Did you not play the last three rounds, or were my easy victories the result of an NPC?” 

“I was going easy on you.” Dick said, “This time I won’t.”

There was no denying the fact that Dick lost the next two games, and only one the last by cheating, elbowing Tim at the last second so he could get a shot in instead. It was at that victory that the manor buzzed back to life, the front door opening with a shout of “Honey, I’m home!” from Steph and a snicker from Cass who’d been working her way through the old TV show with her friend. 

Dick’s phone buzzed with a message from Bruce, letting him know the others were back and movie night was still on, the news was good, but could wait until tomorrow, and that he was sending both boys upstairs while he finished something.  

Dick and Tim split, Tim to find the girls and Dick to wait on his other brothers exit from the cave. Both seemed happy enough, though Jason’s limp looked worse than it had been, which made Dick frown. 

“Todd insisted that the Red Hood would not go out on crutches.” Damian explained.

“And did Todd realize that was a bad idea?” Dick asked, looking at Jason.

He scowled at him, “Of course, but it was worth it, in a week I’ll be infiltrating the Alkali’s proper.” 

They made a beeline for the dining room, instead of Damian pushing his way between Dick and Jason like he’d been lately he stayed by Jason’s side, away from Dick.

“A job I still believe I could handle.” he said, peering around the taller man. 

“It’s a job you won’t be doing at all, you’re my partner right now, remember?” Dick grinned at him.

“Tt. I was not sure we would be continuing that arrangement since you are planning to leave.” 

His smile fell at his baby brother’s words, this was a conversation he’d put off too long. He should have talked about it the night of the accident, but he hadn’t and as a result Damian had probably come up with a hundred reasons why Dick was leaving him.

“I am going to go see if Pennyworth needs help with final dinner preparations. Todd, I suggest you find somewhere to sit before you are caught with a worse limp.” Damian announced, before all but running out of the room. 

Jason stopped and looked over at Dick. “You need to talk to the kid.” 

“I know.” he replied, “He’s been avoiding me.” 

“Never stopped you before.” Jason reminded him, then added, “I tried talking to him the other day, but he needs to hear it from you.” 

Dick nodded, “I’ll pull him aside after dinner and let him know we need to talk after game night, that way he has time to work out his feelings before we talk.” 

One of Jason’s eyebrows rose, “Or give him time to work things out by thoroughly trouncing you in a game of Sorry.” 

* * *

 

Damian managed to avoid Dick during and after dinner. Then proceeded to trounce him, in both Sorry and Monopoly. It wasn’t until Dick and Cass were deep in a battle to see who could be the most flexible while playing twister that Dick noticed Damian’s veneer crack.

He’d looked up from where he was somehow under one of Cass’s arms and folded over her leg, to see Damian’s attention on him. There was something behind the anger he’d aimed at Dick all day, something sad and wanting, and Dick’s hand slipped, toppling him and Cass over into a pile. 

Damian turned and stalked out of the room. dick scrambled to untangle himself from his sister and told her sorry as he hurried after his little brother. 

“Damian, Dames, hey, wait up!” Dick said, as he turned into the hallway Damian had disappeared down. 

His brother stopped and turned his expression fiercely guarded, “What?” 

Dick stopped in front of him and sighed, “I know you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk to you if that’s ok.” 

Damian crossed his arms, “I can only assume you will pursue me through the manor for this talk, whether I want it or not so I will amuse you.”

“In the hallway?” Dick asked.

“It is as good a place as any.” his brother responded. 

He nodded, “If you’re sure.” he said, eying Damian. When his brother nodded he continued, “First of all, I need to apologize. I should have talked to you sooner about this, I thought that giving you some time would help, but I think it’s only backfired.” 

His brother huffed, and tightened his arms across his chest. 

“I’m not leaving you.” Dick said, “I’m not leaving Nightwing, or the family, or any of the things we’ve built. I’m just trying to find some space of my own again.”

“Space of your own indicates that you are, in fact, leaving us.” Damian said, turning his gaze away from Dick. 

Dick knelt before his brother and put his hands on his shoulders. “That is not what it means, and you know it. You’re fine with everyone else having a place of their own, and you were fine with my getting an apartment after Bruce came back. This can’t be that much of a surprise to you, Damian. So, tell me, what’s really bothering you?”

Damian looked behind Dick to a spot on the wall as he answered, “I just lost you, Grayson. I do not wish to do it again.” 

Dick reached a hand up to cup Damian’s cheek and turn his head towards him, “Why do you think me leaving will mean you’re losing me?” 

His brother looked him in the eyes now, “Isn’t it obvious? Todd has come home, and the family is stable. Your decision to leave can only mean you feel free enough to start your own life now, and leave us.” 

“Then what do you call what I have now?” Dick asked.

Damian shrugged, his gaze averting again.

“I’d call it a life, and a pretty good one by what you’ve already said. Why do you think that I have to leave all that to do something new? How come I can’t have both?” 

Damian looked back at him, “You do not want to start over?” 

Dick shook his head, “Nothing could ever make me want that.” He let his hand slip up to run through Damian’s hair, “I couldn’t imagine trying to start a life without you around. I’d be lost.” 

His brother’s cheeks colored, “Tt, of course you would.” 

He let go of Damian’s hair and sat back on his heels, “I am sorry, Damian. I really messed up explaining this to you the first time.” 

Damian shrugged, “I was partially to blame. I did leave you in the middle of patrol.” 

“I should have gone after you, but that’s all in the past. Next time you assume I’m leaving you for some arbitrary reason, or something I tell you doesn’t sound right please tell me? I’d rather not get roasted in Sorry again.” Dick told him, with a grin.

Damian smiled, “You are terrible at Sorry, but I can spare you the indignity of being wrong for a prolonged period of time in the future.” 

They rejoined the family after collecting a thin excuse in the form of a plate of cookies from the kitchen, and spent the rest of the night teamed up against anyone who challenged them. 

By midnight Bruce and Dick were the only one’s still attempting to play anything. Damian and Tim had nodded off on the couch after a few rounds of Mario Kart, Steph had dragged Jason off to the kitchen, and Cass was lounging on the armchair halfway paying attention to her phone as she fought back sleep. 

Bruce looked down at the checkers game between them before glancing around the room, “What do you say we call it a night?” 

“And miss the chance to lose another game?” Dick asked, “I guess I can agree.” 

Bruce chuckled lightly, “You did well enough after you patched things up with Damian. You talked about your moving?” 

Dick nodded and stood, beginning to scoop the checkers pieces back into their box, “We worked things out. He’ll be happier when I can give him an extra key to whatever apartment I get, but he’s content for now.” 

His father followed him, folding the board up to hand to Dick, “About that.” he started. 

Dick hesitated as he went to put the lid on the box, “Yeah?” 

Bruce’s tone wasn’t that of a lecture, so he shouldn’t be worried. Still, a coil of unease rested in his stomach. They hadn’t talked about Dick’s leaving yet. He assumed Bruce understood, this was hardly the first time he’d left. Though this time they were in a much better place than they had been. He probably should have warned him before announcing it to Tim and Damian, but both times had felt right, even if he’d initially messed things up with his youngest brother.

“Alfred tells me you’re having trouble finding a place.” 

Dick shrugged, “I have a lot of criteria I’m trying to hit.” 

Bruce was stalling, and Dick was curious why. If this conversation wasn’t about him making a mistake, or about Bruce trying to course correct him then it was something else. Bruce’s hesitancy usually pointed to subjects of a more emotional nature. Dick was about to attempt to pull it out of him when his father spoke up again.

“I wanted to know if you’d like to move back into the penthouse.” Bruce said, “Either permanently or until you’ve found a place of your own. It’s in a good location, it’s safe, and it’s attached to the bunker making it a good place to go after patrol.”  

This was the last thing he’d expected Bruce to say, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome either.

“That’s actually a great idea.” he said, letting the top of the box slide into place. “What prompted the offer?” he asked. 

Bruce shrugged. “I never use it, and as a strategic location it’s good to have occupied.” 

“Plus you wanted to make sure I was ok after leaving.” Dick grinned, “There’s been so much going on lately, the least you can do is make sure I have a safe place to stay, and that it’s equipped well enough that the other kids can drop in on me with anything.” 

His father gave a noncommittal grunt as he turned to begin stacking empty bowls. 

Dick stacked cups, and together they took them into the kitchen. There they loaded them into the dishwasher, Dick shutting it with a click. 

“Thanks, B.” he said, “It really is a great offer.” 

Bruce nodded, “You’re thinking about getting a job?” 

“Probably just volunteering to start.” Dick said, leaning back against the counter, “I’ve got to ease back into this day life thing.” 

Bruce’s mouth quirked up in a smile, “Ease into it? You’re more of a jumper.” 

“Okay, so I figured it’d be more flexible than a job job.” He said. 

“Flexible sounds more your speed.” Bruce agreed. 

Dick laughed at that and nodded, “Plus I can’t get fired from it.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive

Spending the night in had done more good for Tim than he’d imagined it would. He’d been picturing wasted time and delayed success that would result from one night off patrol, and instead got real sleep and a clear head for once. He’d thought he’d wake up antsy and ready to be down in the cave from dawn till dusk again, but he woke slowly, savoring the feeling of a bed well slept in.

The sheets were perfectly warm, the pillow somewhere between soft and snuggly. He wasn’t sure he wanted to get up. His stomach reminded him that he needed to and he found himself wanting coffee and food, preferably carbs. Then he’d get back to the Alkali’s and his strange stalker and whatever else the day held for him.

The memory of the picture he’d received and the letter twisted in his stomach against the hunger and drove him out of the bed to pull on a robe. Moving if just to escape the worrying fact that he still had no idea who was sending them. They were, of course, connected. That much he was sure of. The culprit? Not so much. He’d let searching for the person get dragged behind the Alkali case over the past few days, but he needed to devote more time to it.

One letter is fine, an angry person getting angry words out and on the page. The picture was worrying. That, plus it coming to him at work, meant trouble. The last thing Tim wanted was an added complication to any of the Alkali affairs, but he knew he’d have it if he didn’t do something about his stalker. He didn’t need extra distractions right now.

He tugged on a pair of thick socks, ran his fingers through his hair so Alfred wouldn’t frown at him, and deemed his appearance good enough for breakfast. Tim’s quest for coffee and a bagel, or muffin, or some kind of bread covered in melting butter, was interrupted by raised voices coming from the kitchen. Tim paused outside the door to make sure it wasn’t an argument going on, but rather an intense discussion before he moved into the room.

“It is time you allowed me to take you shopping for some new clothes.” Alfred was saying, turned away from the stove where he’d been working on pancakes, from the smell of things.

Jason stood opposite him, mug in hand, and frown on his face. On the other side of the island Damian, Steph, and Cass were sipping tea, coffee, and orange juice respectively, and openly enjoying the pre-argument. The safest path through the kitchen and to the coffee would be behind them, and Tim started that way.

“I have plenty of things to wear, Alfie. If you’re tired of seeing the same four shirts I can pick something else up from my apartment the next time I swing by.”

Alfred sighed, and aimed his spatula at Jason, “That is not the point. You are home again, and I would like the opportunity to help flesh out your wardrobe without you having to deplete your stocks elsewhere.”

Tim heard, rather than saw, Jason’s sigh, his attention more focused on the half-full pot of black coffee. He pulled down a Superman mug and filled it, savoring the scent of the coffee, and the way it warmed the tips of his fingers as he wrapped them around the mug.

“It’s not depleting, more of collecting.” Jason said, “Besides, I don’t want to put you out. If I need something new to wear I can go on my own, or take Cass along.”

Tim turned to see Alfred smiling at Jason, the pancake had been flipped, and the smell of vanilla, sugar, and flour cooking sent Tim’s stomach rumbling. He gulped down a sip of his coffee to fill the empty space in his stomach. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be getting food until this pseudo-argument was over and Alfred was planning the details of how long they’d be out.

“I am already taking Damian for new shoes. He’s outgrown his last pair and is in need of replacements.”

Before Jason could think of a new argument Cass stepped in, “It would be fun.” she said, “We could all go.”

“Do you think you could fit a few more people into the car, Alfred?” Steph asked, “I’ve been itching to go to the mall for a while now. They just opened up a new makeup store and I haven’t been yet.”

Tim kept his spot by the coffee pot and watched, the words volleying between the girls, Damian’s scowl at the whole affair (but lack of comment, meaning he’d already been roped in by Alfred earlier), Jason’s gaping mouth, and Alfred’s growing grin. He was so wrapped up in the people watching, especially as Jason spun on the girls to further argue the trip to the mall, that he missed Alfred moving towards him.

A plate, with a stack of pancakes on it, was settled by his arm accompanied by Alfred’s smile turned on him, “You’ve been needing a new pair of sneakers as well, correct?” he asked, and Tim knew he hadn’t been a bystander at all, but carefully planned into the trip.

He nodded, and Alfred turned back to the group, “It’s settled then.” he said, “We’ll all go after breakfast. Since we have a large party, and a recovering injury, Master Timothy, I’d appreciate it if you drove one car, and I’ll drive the other. It will be far more pleasant than packing everyone into one vehicle.”

* * *

Somehow, they all survived the transition of getting dressed, packing into cars, and driving to the mall. Tim figured it was because Alfred was lead on this. If it had been Bruce or Dick, or really anyone else they would still be at the manor arguing about something and driving Alfred crazy. Instead, they were heading into the building with relative order and everyone seeming happy.

Tim lagged behind watching Alfred walk closely beside Jason, still favoring his injured ankle, and using a crutch, but walking better than he had in awhile. Damian walked between Cass and Steph, with his phone out. Steph was pointing at the screen while Cass directed them so they didn’t run into anything. The whole thing was odd like Tim had walked in on something he wasn’t supposed to see.

Alfred herded them through the mall and into clothing store after clothing store where they were mostly left to fend for themselves until he was ready to move on. The mall wasn’t as busy as it normally would be, and Tim attributed it to the time and day. It was strange, and Tim was sure if he and Cass or a different group had wanted to break off Alfred would have been fine with it. They just didn’t? It was like everyone had decided they wanted this time with Alfred, and if that meant being on their best behaviors then so be it.

Still, that didn’t stop them from forming groups while in the stores. Cass and Steph disappeared off to the girl's sections, sometimes dragging Tim, sometimes not. Jason and Alfred explored clothing racks. Damian, Tim didn’t know where Damian ducked off to and he didn’t really care. He spotted the kid intermittently with Jason or the girls, usually whatever group Tim wasn’t a part of.

For his part, Tim wandered. Rack to rack. Group to group. He didn’t really have a plan, he didn’t actually need much, yes he needed sneakers, but he didn’t need need them. Neither did he need the Superman hoodie Steph shoved into his arms, or the socks covered in pictures of coffee cups Jason tossed at him. His brain was counting down the minutes until he’d be back at the manor and able to jump back onto his stalker issue. The faster he got that over and done with, the faster he could devote all his time to the Alkali case. He’d only felt lethargic that morning because it had been morning, and the day was fresh and ahead of him. The longer they spent here, the less time he had for important things.

He’d need to devote that time soon, they were already planning the ‘show of force’ Jason was going to put on as his audition to join the Alkali’s. That was going to happen in a week, which should give Tim the time he needed to track down his stalker. If he wasn’t wasting it on trips to the mall or by dealing with any other random issues that might come up. If he hadn’t driven half the group there Tim would have found an excuse to leave by now, even as much as he was enjoying being around Alfred and a somewhat sane version of his family.

He found a bench and sat on it, the hoodie and socks in his lap. He watched Alfred and Damian choose shoes for a while, his brain working on the different ways he could research his stalker. He lost sight of the kid as his attention followed Alfred as the man vetoed a pair of, particularly high heels Steph was trying to get Cass to try on. The look of exaggerated disappointment on Steph’s face made him chuckle.

“Drake.” Damian said, standing beside the bench Tim was sitting on, “Would you mind if I joined you?” He held a single box of shoes in his hands.

There was something that seemed out of place about seeing him surrounded by racks of shoes and clothes. Tim had been shopping with Damian before. Maybe. They had to have gone together before, right? Tim had been out with everyone else. Though try as he might he couldn’t come up with an instance. Maybe they’d both gone to the store with Alfred once, but Tim couldn’t place it. Damian was too settled in his mind in red and yellow and green. With a hood pulled up and a scowl on his face. Flying through the night or taking out a training dummy in the cave. This mundane shopping was odd.

Tim inched over to give him some room and motioned for him to sit, “Doesn’t bother me. We’ll probably be moving again soon. I think Alfred wants to get this done before it puts too much strain on Jason’s ankle.”

Damian nodded as he sat, “It is a good plan. Todd needed the exercise, but too much could have negative effects.” he looked in the direction Tim had been. Steph and Cass had moved away, and Alfred was waving Jason over, a pair of dress shoes in his hands.

“This trip has been good.” Damian said, making Tim look at him, “Pennyworth has found a way for us all to feel somewhat normal.” his fingers slid across the top of the box.

Tim wondered if Damian felt normal. Or if this whole thing was just as odd to him as it was to Tim. He didn’t look entirely comfortable with the trip, but maybe he hadn’t really meant himself. Or Tim. Or Cass and Steph. Maybe he was just talking about Jason. It had been years since Jason had been on any kind of a family shopping trip. Watching him smile and let Alfred pick things out for him seemed right. Like Jason was finally back where he belonged. It was the only right thing about the trip.

“Yeah, I guess Jay’s never really been out with us all before has he?” he said.

Damian frowned at him, “Yes, but I was not only speaking of him. As a unit, we have not all been out together. Someone is almost always gone, and even now Grayson is out, looking over the penthouse with Father.”

Tim wanted to laugh at Damian’s use of the word unit. Only he would call the family that. “So what, it’s nice for everyone to do something normal?”

Damian nodded, “How else are we supposed to accept the fact that everyone is back at the manor?”

“When did you get to be so insightful?” Tim asked.

His brother scoffed, “I have always been insightful, Drake. We simply do not talk.” his face fell at those words, and his hands played with the lid of the box again, like he was nervous.

Only, Damian didn’t get nervous. He was confident and brash. He took instead of asking. Except, he hadn’t just sat down today. And aside from some light squabbles and the mess with the accident, he hadn’t really pushed Tim over the last few weeks. He’d attributed that mostly to Damian being distracted with Jason and Dick, but maybe it was purposeful on the kid’s part.

“I wanted to speak with you about something.” Damian said, fingers catching on the underside of the box, “About that, the not talking.”

Tim wasn’t sure how to respond, so he let the silence between them stretch. Damian’s fingers slid under the lid, back and forth against the lip as he first waited for Tim to say something. When Tim didn’t he gave a short nod, continued playing with the lid and seemed to be piecing together what words he would say next.

“I wanted to apologize.” he said, “For trying to kill you when we met. And for much of the antagonizing that I did after that.”

Again, Tim didn’t know what to say. Was this really happening? In a mall? On a bench? He wasn’t even sure he believed the kid was being honest. What did he have to go on otherwise? He knew his brother could be manipulative, and this was something Bruce, Dick, and Alfred had been pushing for them to get past for a while. Not just this-but the animosity between them. If Damian wanted something from Tim, wanted his help in sneaking off to do something stupid with the Alkali’s he’d need to be on good terms with him. Which would mean the apology. Plus, they were in public where Tim couldn’t really start a fight, and with Alfred. If there was a perfect time for Damian to ambush him with this it would be now.

Except, the kid seemed so nervous. He’d said his part and was now watching Tim intently, but not in a needing way like he expected him to say thanks let’s be brothers, but with something anxious, his body tense, fingers gripping the lip of the box lid now.

Only, Tim couldn’t think of a reason other than Damian wanting something from him. There was no way this was him reaching out, suddenly inspired by who knew what to be a good little brother. He didn’t need Tim. He had the rest of his family wrapped around his little finger, adding Tim to the list of people he ‘cared’ about wouldn’t help him at all. Besides, what prompted this? Did he feel sorry for Tim being left out of family things? Was this a pity apology? Or another one of Dick’s attempts to make them bond? Maybe he was overthinking this, but he needed to know.

“Did Dick put you up to this? Or Jason? In an attempt to make me feel better?”

Damian jerked back like he’d been hit. The lid of the box fell back on with a thump. His lips pressed into a line and he stood abruptly, the box clutched to his chest, Tim could see the way the cardboard of it bent and creased under his fingers.

“No,” he said and looked at Tim for a moment, that stupid box pressed against his chest. He took in a breath and turned away with no further jabs or barbs or anything, changing direction to approach Steph instead of wandering aimlessly away.

Tim wasn’t sure why the whole thing left him feeling bad. He’d asked a simple question. One that was justified, at least in his eyes. There was nothing different about Damian that would have left Tim to believe the boy had just decided to apologize on his own. Nothing major had happened to make Damian reach out to him, or even realize he might want to repair things with him. Tim hadn’t almost died. Or saved Damian from almost dying.

He was right in questioning it. He knew that. He was also sure that if Dick had been standing next to them during that exchange he would be giving Tim a disappointed look. One that said, while justified, Tim shouldn’t have questioned the olive branch Damian was holding out. Maybe he wouldn’t have said anything if he hadn’t been so distracted. Maybe he still would have, and there was a reason he and Damian hadn’t patched things up sooner. Maybe it was both their faults, a fact Tim would rather ignore than face.

Damian didn’t try to speak to him again after that. Tim had expected as much. He would have done the same thing if he was in the kid’s shoes. Damian also didn’t send him glares that translated as death threats, and while the tension between them was awkward it wasn’t hostile. All were things he assumed would come of his spurning Damian’s apology.

The lack of them left Tim feeling gross. He stopped being worried Damian would retaliate after the kid let Steph drag him into a candy store and load him down with sweets everyone knew she’d end up eating. He walked out decked in candy necklaces, and carrying a Batman lollypop all but grinning, and then actually smiled when Jason teased him about it. That, more than anything made Tim’s chest ache, and he didn’t know why.

Or he did, and he didn’t want to face it.

Steph’s hand on his arm stopped him from running into a mall directory, “What happened, did you skip sleep last night in favor of more computer time?” Steph joked, pulling him away.

“It may come as a shock to everyone but I did sleep last night,” Tim said.

“The miracle of miracles.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “Isn’t that--” but Steph shoved a finger against his lips.

“Shut up, look.” she grabbed him and turned him to face the directory he’d almost run into, except instead of a map this side showed an advertisement for the mall’s movie theater.

“They’re doing a special showing of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I told Cass we needed to come by and see this.” she paused to poke her head around the directory, “Cass! Monty Python!”

Tim saw Cass freeze mid-step. Alfred, Jason, and Damian all stopped to turn as well. Cass looked from Alfred to Tim and Steph then back. She shifted the shopping bags in her hands and squared her shoulders before turning to Alfred.

“We are almost finished here.” Alfred said, before she could speak, “I can take Masters Jason and Damian home, and you all can meet us after the movie. Today is supposed to be enjoyable after all.”

Cass flung her arms around his shoulders, careful she didn’t hit him with a bag and squeezed before letting go and skipping over to stand by Steph.

“Thanks, Alfred, we’ll see you later.” Steph said, hooking an arm through Tim’s, “Come on, I think I remember a showtime set for around now.”

Tim had no idea if she did or if it was an excuse to get him to move, but he let her drag him in the direction of the theater, leaving the majority of Tim’s worries behind. There was little point in arguing that he needed to get back, even if he did. Next time they went anywhere he wasn’t going to drive anyone. Still, he couldn’t deny that a distraction might be good for him, after the day he’d already had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My plan is to get chapters of this out on a weekly basis until it's finished...but we'll see. I may be biting off more than I can chew with two weekly fics happening at the same time.


	11. Chapter 11

The Red Hood didn’t crash in through the old warehouse’s skylights or shatter any windows. He didn't ram a car through a wall or blow a hole in for his grand entrance. He threw the doors open and strolled in. Any other night he might have been filled with bullets on sight, but tonight everyone was distracted. Auditions were going on after all. 

Well maybe not auditions. To Jason it looked more like the kind of interview he never wanted to be at. The kind where the interviewees were tied to chairs and the interviewers were all too happy to have them there. The men who worked for the Alkali’s were dressed in suits. Why that was the uniform of choice Jason would never guess, it was about as cliche as dressing like a trash can. Which was about how he’d describe the five or so men tied to chairs. 

He grinned, this was going to be easier than planned. He had Spoiler and Red Robin on standby in case things got messy, but from the look of things this would be a walk in the park. He clapped his hands, slow and loud enough to echo in the mostly empty building. 

Every head turned to look at him. The metallic click of guns locking onto him was unsurprising. Jason held his hands up and wiggled his fingers, “Man, am I glad I skipped the traditional application. You guys look like hell.” 

When no one fired immediately, Jason let his arms drop, hands comfortably close to his guns. 

“Applications are closed.” One of the men said. Jason looked him over. Old Matty. He used to run with Scarface. Jason wondered how much the Alkali’s had paid to get him to turn over and what they’d promised him protection wise. 

“Come on Matts.” Jason said, “You can’t make an exception?” 

Matty shook his head, “We don’t make exceptions for Bats. Scram or you’ll wish you hadn’t picked this party to crash.” 

While he spoke one of the other men reached up to tap a unit in his ear in an obvious attempt at contacting his superiors.

“You’ll find those wont work.” Jason said pointing at the man, “I’ve jammed the signal- but before you all get too excited hear me out.” he added as fingers hovered over triggers. “I’m not with the Bats. I tried them for a few weeks sure, but they’re too clean. Not that I really care to explain this to you all.” 

He dove to the ground as the lights in the building went out. Shots rang around him as Jason’s night vision clicked on. He reminded himself to thank Tim for the plan. No one in the room was ready, and Jason made quick work of the Alkali’s guys, trussing them up without a drop more blood spilled than was necessary. 

Jason wouldn’t lie. He was dramatic, and enjoyed showing off. So when Justin  Alkali came storming into the building, flanked by more men than Jason cared to count (or really needed to) he was ready. He’d taken his seat at the head of the table, feet kicked up onto it, and was monologuing Shakespeare to the ten or so men ringed around it. Not that half of them heard it, unconscious as they were. But it was the thought that counted, right?

“Sorry guys, applications are closed. I was hoping to toss my helmet into the ring but Matty said no.” he pointed at Matty and shrugged, “Too bad too I would of made a fine enforcer.” 

“The hell you think you are barge in in here and interrupting everything?” Justin asked. 

“I think,” Jason said, kicking his feet off the table and spinning the chair to face him before he stood, “That I’ve just clinched it as your new hire.” He strolled forward, “I’ve shown the get up and go necessary for the job. I didn’t kill any of your worthless underlings, and cause you more hiring trouble. And I’m obviously interested in working for you, if not I'd have just stolen the pretty little shipment of drugs you’ve got stowed over there.” He hooked his thumb in the direction of the stash they’d located hours before. 

He looked them over, “So, am I hired or what?”

* * *

Jason didn’t make it back to the manor until well after dawn. The Alkali’s had kept him for a while first to convince them he wasn't’ going to just betray them, then to go over important business deals. Somehow he’d made it out of there with little more than a head aching to sleep. He’d waved Spoiler and Red Robin off as soon as he determined no one was going to kill him, and let his helmet record everything sending the feed back to the cave.

He skipped heading in via the cave and simply crawled in through his window and face planted in the bed. He stayed conscious long enough to pull his helmet and shoes off and toss them in a pile beside the bed before curling up and passing out.

He woke a few hours later to a finger squished into his cheek. He swatted at it, and pulled a pillow over his head. He ached from being up all night and his bed felt just about perfect right that minute. He wanted no interruptions, not now or for hours more. 

“I’m only going to poke the pillow. And trust me, you’ll know I’m trying to poke your cheek.” Stephanie’s voice found its way through Jason’s shield and he groaned. 

“Go pick on Tim or Damian.” 

“Tim and Damian sent me.” 

Jason lifted half the pillow to eye her. Steph sat in a crouch by his bed, dressed in some kind of bright pink hooded top that made him want to ban the color for being oppressive to his tired eyes. She shrugged and rolled her eyes, “Not together, obviously. They’re still doing that weird staying in the same room with each other while not talking and totally avoiding eye contact thing.” 

Jason let the pillow fall back down, “Unless a miracle or catastrophy has happened I don’t want to be pulled from this bed for another six to twelve hours.” he grumbled. 

She was right, he could feel the poke through the pillow. “Steph. I swear if you don’t leave me alone I--”

“What you’ll start a pillow fight?” 

Jason groaned. Then a thought hit him and he raised the pillow again, “You’re pretty chipper for a girl who thought I needed to crawl back into one of my hidey holes a few days ago.” 

She sighed and sat back from her crouch to plop on the carpet, “That’s the other reason I came. We should talk, but I’d rather not do it through a pillow.”

She stood and brushed off her jeans, “I can promise some of Alfred’s pancakes, saved just for you if you’ll give me a few minutes.” 

Jason threw the pillow at her but pulled himself up anyway, “Go. I’ll meet you downstairs after a shower.” 

Steph grinned at him, pulling her phone from her pocket to text his brothers Jason had risen from the dead or some other joke. “I’ll have coffee waiting and everything, so don’t take too long.” 

Jason thought about dragging the shower out to spite her, but the temptation of coffee and pancakes hurried his movements anyway. He showered, pulled on an oversized hoodie and sweats and took the stairs two at a time, not running into anyone else on his way. That made sense. It was the middle of the day and just about everyone was busy. 

Steph waited at the kitchen island with the promised stack of pancakes and steaming mug of coffee sitting at the chair across from her. She had a mug of something cupped between her palms and was sipping at it when he walked in. 

“This feels a lot like a questioning.” 

“If it was there wouldn’t be food.” 

Jason had to agree. There’d been nothing to eat the night before after all. He pulled the stool out and sat, sipping from the coffee first. Placebo effect or not the caffeine made him feel immediately more awake. 

“So when can I expect everyone else to pile in?” Jason asked, pouring syrup on the pancakes. 

“Never. I mean, who knows. This isn’t an intervention.” Steph told him, “Tim was worried because of how late things went. Damian said you forgot to message him that you got back.” Steph gave him a knowing grin with her last addition. 

Jason resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The Baby Bat was getting too many bad habits from Dick. He’d have to step in and stop the mother henning if he wanted to ever rest again. 

“And you.” he pointed a triangle of pancake at her, “You want to talk.” 

“Yes. I want to talk, but if your going to be dumb about it maybe I was right.” 

“Hold on a second.” Jason said, half a sigh and half irritated, “I’m not the one who spent the whole time they’ve been back being passively aggressively passive aggressive.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Steph said, “But you’re right. You didn’t do whatever that was. I did.” She took a swig from her cup and made a face.

“Too hot?” Jason guessed. 

“Too hot.” she wheezed, then coughed. 

This was starting to sound like an apology and Jason wasn’t sure he was really looking for one from Stephanie. He understood her hesitation and caution. It made sense, especially since she’d missed his sudden transference to brotherhood. A heartbroken Damian was enough to inspire anyone to stick around longer than they’d planned, and push him to really settle on staying home. 

“It’s fine, you know.” he said, stabbing his fork into the pancakes and working on cutting them all up. “I’m not upset that you’ve had trouble trusting me.” 

Steph’s fingernails clicked against the ceramic of the cup. An orange to match her shirt, dotted with yellow and red polka dots. “It’s not. It doesn’t take a master profiler to see that you’re genuine. I’ve just been dumb.” 

Jason grinned at her, “Join the club. We’ve all been there.” 

“You aren’t letting me apologize.” 

“I don't need it.” Jason said, “We’re good Steph. It’s fine, I’d have done the same in your shoes. Besides,” he added with a grin, “The pancakes and coffee are more than enough to make up for it.” 

Stephanie huffed and leaned over to snatch a pancake off the plate, “Then this is my tax for you not letting me finish my speech.” she said, and rolled it up, took a bite, and made a face, “I’ll have you know I planned it and everything. I made Damian sit and listen.” 

“That-” Jason handed her the syrup, “is a lie. Damian would never sit through listening to you practice a speech. Sit and watch you make a fool of yourself sure, but I doubt he stayed for more than thirty seconds.” 

She unrolled the pancake, poured some syrup on and rolled it back up, “Fine, it was Tim and he fell asleep after five minutes.” Steph said, and took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “I guess it was good for us both. He slept and I didn’t practice something I wasn’t going to get to say anyway.”

* * *

 

Jason spent the day preparing for an extended trip away. It was an odd feeling, packing a duffel to be away from the manor. He stood staring at his bookshelf wondering which half read volumes he wanted to finish during the long periods of waiting for the Alkalis to call. He couldn’t be at the manor while he was undercover. Not after today. He needed a place he could be found, and this wasn’t it. 

The thought of going back to one of his safehouses to stay for a while was grating. No, the right word was lonely. Beyond the noise filtering in from outside, screaming and cars honking, doors slamming and the bustle of the neighborhood the apartment would be quiet. 

There wouldn’t be a Damian to drag him out of bed or throw the latest in a long line of young adult books in his lap to read together. Dick wouldn’t pop in with a grin and drag him down to the cave to spar. There would be no Tim to elbow or Cass to sit quietly with (or loudly as they planned a prank). No Alfred. And no Bruce. 

Jason’s fingers strayed over a copy of The Island of the Blue Dolphins. Forever ago, Bruce had been reading it with him. They’d gotten distracted, one thing lead to another, and Jason had never finished the book. Jason hadn’t picked it back up again since he’d been back. It was probably a little juvenile for him at this point, but he pulled it from the shelf anyway.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d wasted his time while at the manor. Wasted a chance. He and Bruce still skirted each other. Okay, he still avoided Bruce. Not actively, but his feet took him places he knew Bruce wouldn’t loiter. He didn’t linger at dinner or go out of his way to sit in Bruce’s study. 

It was silly to miss what he hadn’t done, but he knew that’s how he’d feel in a week as he lounged on a beat up couch with the book they hadn’t finished in his hands. He wondered how many times he’d read it after the first go through. If Bruce had ever finished it.

He tucked it into his duffle and tossed a few mysteries and a well worn copy of Pride and Prejudice in, then pulled the smaller book out. Maybe he’d save it. Read it with Bruce when he got back. Or read it with Bruce in the room. Whatever. It’d be a step. A silly, childish, odd step. He set the book on the shelf again, face forward, like a prized possession waiting on his return. 

“I hope you have not packed anything we are reading together.” Damian said, stepping into the room. Jason could just trace a bit of sullenness in his brother’s voice. 

“I’ll be back almost daily you know. For check in.” Jason said, turning to lean against his bookcase. 

Damian crossed his arms, the corner of a book poking out between them. Jason didn’t want to lean over to see the title, he was sure Damian would tell him soon enough. If he didn’t bug him too much before then. 

“Do not think I am going to miss you.” he said, “It will simply be inconvenient that is all.” 

Jason chuckled, “Do you do this to Dick too?” he asked. 

Damian scowled at him, which was answer enough. 

Jason stepped forward to put a hand on his shoulder, “It’s okay to be a little worried and upset at a change in routine, Dames.” 

His brother huffed, but dropped his arms, “There is no way for you to stay here. I know that.”

“If it helps at all, I’d rather be here then back at the old apartment.” Jason told him. 

“The only thing that would help is this case being over.” Damian said, “Beyond that, I have brought you entertainment for your trip away.”

He uncrossed his arms and held the book up for Jason to take. There was a ramshackle building on chicken legs on the front cover, the title reading Howl’s Moving Castle. Jason took the paperback from his brother and thumbed through the pages. 

“You have probably filled your bag with nothing but dull reads. This at least will make you laugh.” 

Jason smiled, “Thanks, kiddo. It’ll go to the top of my list.” 

“Tt. It had better.” 

Jason moved to settle the book in his bag and paused. He hated to disrupt the general peace of his packing, but he had Damian here and without Tim close by. He knew for a fact their brother was down in the cave chugging away at another attempt to speed up the Alkali case. 

“So.” he said, turning to sit on the bed. “Want to tell me what’s got you and Tim all but avoiding each other?” 

Damian spun on his heel and made to walk out of the room. Jason jumped up and grabbed his arm. 

“Nope. Not today.” 

“Release me, Todd.” Damian growled.

Jason hooked an arm around a now very squirmy Damian and hauled him back towards the bed. “You lost all your threatening points the moment you yelled at Westly to ‘just kiss her already’ so sit down and let’s talk.” He said dropping his brother in a heap there, and returning to where he’d sat on the edge. 

Damian scrambled up and glared at him, “There is nothing to talk about. I am not the one with the problem.”

“Alright. So Tim did something this time?” Jason prodded. He didn’t want to leave with a war brimming, and while he hadn’t sense hostility between the two, things had been weird since they’d gotten back from their trip to the mall days ago. 

Damian groaned, “You are insufferable. I am trying to leave it alone.” 

Jason turned to face him, “Damian, I think even Bruce has noticed that something is different between you and Tim. Talk to me, and maybe we’ll find a way to work it out.” 

His brother crossed his arms, “Because you are the king of working things out.”

“Low blow, but valid.” Jason said, then poked, him in the arm, “You’ve done a surprisingly good job of bringing people together. So do I have to make you cry in front of Tim or?”

“It is hard to do anything when one party seems unwilling to resolve anything. So I am leaving it alone.” Damian said, swatting at Jason’s hand. 

Jason raised an eyebrow at him, but kept his mouth shut. He had a feeling if he gave Damian a few more seconds the rest of the story might come spilling out. He was rewarded for his patience almost immediately. 

“Drake does not want anything to do with me.” Damian said, “And, as he does not wish to talk about it, I am doing my best to not make things worse.” 

He didn’t quite uncross his arms, only gripped them with his hands, his fingernails digging into his forearms, “I do not want to fight. So, I am trying to make things go back to normal. We do not fight if we do not talk.” 

It clicked for Jason, Damian must have tried to apologize or make some headway in bonding with Tim. He felt a surge of pride towards his little brother and had to set it aside, it wasn’t the time to gush about it, or plan how he was going to tell Dick (who would immediately gush), he still had to deal with the hurt he could see. Damian’s need to be accepted was a well enough known trait about him, so was his hard head. So if he'd pushed past those to risk being rejected, and then was- well it made sense he was retreating on this front. He'd rather not have a relationship than be hurt, even if he wasn't conscious of making that decision. 

“Damian--” Jason started, but his brother stopped him, fingers digging further into his arms.

“I do not want to talk about it. I made a mistake, and should have left things as they stood. Given enough time, Drake and I will return to our previous arrangement. There is nothing left to be said.”

“You two are going to have to talk at some point.” Jason said. 

Damian looked away from him, “I do not believe now is an appropriate time. Perhaps when things have calmed down.” 

Perhaps. Jason thought, or maybe you two will just ignore it until one or the other is almost killed again. He hated that it took life or death situations to get his family just to talk to each other. Hated that he fell victim to the same pitfall. 

“Well.” Jason said, “Give it some thought. It would be a nice surprise if you two had talked by the time I get back, and even if you haven’t that’s fine too.” he didn’t want to guilt Damian into anything, but he did want his brother to consider trying again. It would be nice to see the two of them getting along. 

Jason ignored the guilt digging at him that he hadn’t tried to sit down with Tim and work out old ghosts either. He’d fallen into a normalcy with Damian and Dick that made it easy to forget there were still issues to deal with. Old hurts that he hadn’t laid to rest. Maybe he should think on talking to Tim as well. Settle things between the two of them, or start on it. 

“I believe I can agree to that.” Damian said. “Thank you for not pushing, Todd.” 

Jason reached out and ruffled Damian’s hair, ignoring the outraged gasp, “No problem kiddo. Now help me finish packing and we can squeeze in some time to start reading that book you brought.” 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a few days late on this chapter, and I'm sorry about it (interviews and life got in the way), but hopefully I'll be back on track by Tuesday.

Tim didn’t want to admit it, but progress was finally being made on the Alkali case, progress that felt like it was being done by everyone but him. Which was good. But it wasn’t his progress, and that nagged him a bit. His fingers stilled over the keyboard in the cave and he sighed. Eyes glancing at the time, 3 A.M. and too late for this kind of thinking.

He should be happy. Jason had managed to squeeze his way into the Alkali’s ranks and was pretty sure he’d be able to dig up evidence sooner rather than later. Which was what Tim wanted. He just wished he’d been more help. Somewhere. Somehow. Helping on this was supposed to settle his place with everyone. Fill him into the slots quickly being taken over by everyone else.

If he couldn’t do this, then did Batman really need him? Did Bruce?

He shoved himself away from the computer and stood. It was dumb to think that way. Of course he was needed, and wanted. He’d just been up too late. Or early. Or whatever. What he needed was a nap. Or something to eat. Not in that order. 

He made his way upstairs and paused at the quiet resting over the building sure it was quiet since most of the occupants were asleep (or still patrolling in Bruce’s case) but it wasn’t just the too late hours of the night it was quiet lately. With Jason gone undercover and Dick settled into the penthouse it was quieter than he’d been used to. Quieter than the chaos he’d so recently been bemoaning. 

Cass kept to herself, and Damian- Damian did too. The most he heard from his little brother was Titus’s claws clicking against the floors or Alfred’s meows. Sometimes he heard Damian’s voice talking back to them, describing a walk or admonishing Alfred for not being where he should. Tim had let the strange apology at the mall settle at the back of his mind as something he’d get to later. After the Alkali’s. After he figured out the source of the strange letters he kept getting. After a million other things. 

He found the kitchen empty and rifled through the fridge for sandwich materials. Bless Alfred for always having sliced ham and cheese stocked. He pulled them out thought about lettuce or tomato and decided he didn’t have the energy. On bread he layered ham, cheese, ham, and cheese again, grinned at it and stuck the last slice of bread on top. He took a huge bite, bread sticking to the roof of his mouth as he tried to chew and grinned. 

He left the rest of the sandwich on the counter while he put everything else away and poured a glass of water. When he turned back around, he saw Jason standing there, sandwich poised for a bite. He was still dressed in his Red Hood uniform, sans helmet.

Tim swore, heart racing, and pointed at Jason, “Put down my food. Now.” 

Jason lowered the sandwich and Tim snatched it from him, “Come on, man. Did you not see that I was already eating it?” he said, clutching it protectively. 

“Sorry.” Jason shrugged, “It’s been a long night and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Well make yourself one.” Tim said, and sighed, “It’s like no one in this family knows boundaries.” 

Jason grinned at him, “Aww come on, Timmers, we do. You’re just not taking into account the fact that your wonderful big brother has spent the last eight or so hours being bored out of his mind on guard duty.”

Tim sat down at the island and eyed him, “And did you find out anything while being oh-so-bored?” he asked before taking another bite of his food, still irritated by the almost theft. Honestly, Jason had to have been sleep deprived on top of hungry to not notice the gaping hole in the sandwich. Or he just didn’t care. Tim wasn’t sure which was worse.

His brother hummed, pulling out supplies to match Tim’s, plus the lettuce and tomato. He lined them up on the counter, counted out four slices of bread and spun the package closed. 

“The first half was nothing but talk about the last Knights game. You get to really understand a man when you hear his Knights opinions for half the night.” Jason pulled a knife from the block, and settled the tomato on a cutting board before slicing it, “This guy? He’s got terrible opinions. He thinks they should have kept old George Brant from last year.” Jason shook his head and pulled a few leaves off the head of lettuce. 

“What’s wrong with that?” Tim asked.

Jason turned gave him a look that said ‘you know what’s wrong with it’ before he handed Tim two slices of the tomato and the leaves, “Here, your food was looking pretty monotone.” 

“It had cheese.” Tim said, taking them. 

“Pepperjack? No, your sandwich was 100% monotone.” Jason told him, turning back around. 

Tim remade the rest of his sandwich while Jason built his. He had to admit the additions made it better. He probably should have taken the time to add them himself, but his brain was already playing with the idea of sleep, right here on this counter instead of his bed. It had been twenty four hours since he’d slept? Maybe? He’d been running a search of ex-Wayne Enterprises employees on a hunch about his stalker. There were a million reasons to stalk a Wayne kid, but fewer to be so threatening. Tim had let the computer do its check, then he’d wanted to go through the files one by one, it had been a long day- or night, or whatever. 

“Anyway, not only does he think they should have kept Brant, but he also thinks they should have signed  _ Felton _ .” Jason turned to glance at him again, “You want mustard or mayo?” 

Tim shook his head and frowned, “That’s fascinating and all but, what other than bad sports opinions did you hear?” 

Jason waved his question away, restocking the fridge. “I’ll get to that, gimme a sec.” 

He pulled a bottle of sparkling water out of the fridge and carried it, plus his two sandwiches to sit across from Tim. One sandwich was dropped on Tim’s plate, landing half on and half off the one Tim was almost finished with.

Jason took a bite of his own seconds before Tim asked, “What’s this for?”

“It’s a ‘pology.” Jason said around his mouthful, then swallowed, “For almost eating your first one. Plus I have a feeling you skipped a meal or two before this.” 

Tim motioned towards his sandwich, “I got food.”

“And you needed more.” Jason told him, before taking a swig of his water.

Tim scrunched his nose, “Ugh, I can’t believe you drink that stuff.” 

“And I can’t believe you don’t Mr. Fancypants.” Jason pointed the bottle at him, “It’s got the perfect amount of fizz.” 

“Whatever. What about the case?” Tim asked, digging the last bits of his previous sandwich from under the new one. 

Asked for or not, Tim was totally going to eat the second sandwich. There was little better in the world than someone fixing your food for you. He briefly thought of splitting it in half and handing Jason a piece, but his stomach was greedy for food. Jason had been right, he’d skipped a meal or three. He had the last bite of his first in his mouth while picking up the second. 

“It looks like they’re going to be bringing in a shipment tomorrow night. And,” Jason paused to tear off a piece of his sandwich and toss it in his mouth. Tim was tempted to step on his foot in retaliation, “Frank’s going to be overseeing it.” 

“Frank Alkali?” Tim asked, “Jason that’s, this is big. Why didn’t you start with this?” He pushed his stool back to stand, “I’ve gotta tell B.”

Jason held out a hand, “Sit back down, Timmy. I told Bruce before I came in for food. We’re gonna plan something for tomorrow, but after food and sleep. Alfred’s orders.” 

Tim fell back onto the stool, “Okay. Good. That’s, this is good. Frank doesn’t have a lot of hold in the company, but he’s a part of it, a weak link. If we can get some dirt on him--”

“The whole house will start to fall.” Jason nodded, “I’m not on duty tomorrow night, too new for it, so I can help with a reconnaissance mission. And cover your back if anything happens.” 

“I’m going?” Tim asked. 

Jason grinned, “Of course, who else knows these guys in and out?” 

Tim was excited. This was a good break. They could gather more information, learn what was going to be happening when, and maybe where the majority of the drugs were going to be stored once the shipment was moved. His exhaustion was giving way to his brain cranking out a hundred different ways to track them and listen in, but Jason had said they weren’t going to move forward until tomorrow. Which was fine, he could always get started a little early.

“Nuh uh.” Jason said, pointing at him, “None of that planning to stay up later stuff.” 

Tim blinked at him, “How’d you know?” 

“I can see your gears turning with all the new fun info.” Jason said, “You’re going to finish your food and I’m walking you to your room. Alfred wanted everyone to get a solid eight hours, and you’re no exception. If you want to help tomorrow you need rest.” he sighed, “Man I sound like Dick or Alfred. Just, I dunno get some sleep, please? I don’t want you passing out at a crucial moment, and Cass says you didn’t go to bed last night.”

“The traitor.” Tim said, “She promised she wouldn’t tell in exchange for ice cream.”

Jason grinned, “You’ve got to do better than that with Cass, we both know that.” 

“Fine. I’ll sleep, but only because Alfred said so.”

“That’s the only reason anyone needs.”

* * *

He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, but the moment Tim’s head hit his pillow he was out. He’d set an alarm for 9. Someone, most likely Alfred, had turned it off and let him sleep in. He woke blinking to what was practically midday sun and the realization that he’d been out longer than he’d wished. 

A text from Bruce told him they’d go over plans after he returned from a meeting. Tim was instructed to relax and rest up. Apparently his appointments for the day had been cancelled already. Stupid alarm and sleeping and everything else. He groaned and rolled over to stare up at his ceiling. 

He could try to sleep more. Only, that felt like a waste of time. Sneaking down to the cave to pour over files would only get him caught and hauled back upstairs. He could work out. Or do some work on his computer. Nothing really sounded interesting, nothing except real work.

He didn’t have long to worry about how he’d spend his day. Cass found him wandering towards the kitchen and coffee, and glued herself to his side for the few hours between waking and Bruce getting back. She dragged him outside to play with Titus, then back inside to paint her nails and watch a Chopped marathon. Tim found himself thoroughly distracted by taking turns judging the competitors for deciding to make another bread pudding and betting against Cass on who’d be chopped and when. 

He lost almost every guess and had to let Cass paint his nails. She put a different color on each one, red, blue, green, purple, and yellow, then added glitter on top and did the same to his other hand. 

“Perfect.” she told him, finishing, “Do not move or you will ruin them.” 

“I wouldn’t dare mess up your masterpiece.” Tim told her. 

“If you do, I’ll paint your face.” She said, waving a brush, still dotted with glitter at him.

He laughed, “You’ve been spending too much time with Steph.” 

Cass wiggled her eyebrows at him and smiled before sitting back against the couch to keep enjoying their marathon. 

Tim didn’t get antsy again until Bruce had arrived back and he had to wait through his dad settling in, then dinner. Finally they met down in the cave. Everyone was there. Cassandra, Stephanie, Dick, Damian, and Jason. And there was Bruce seated at the computer. 

“Jason’s picked up a lead on a shipment that’s coming in tonight.” Bruce opened, “Beyond he and Tim running a stakeout, I want to night to be as normal as possible. We don’t want to let on that we known anything.” 

“What about you?” Tim asked, “Are you not going to be there?” 

Bruce shook his head, “No. Oracle’s heard buzz about Scarface running a job tonight, something big with explosions. I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.” 

“Do you want us to come with you?” Damian asked.

“I need you, Dick, Cassandra, and Stephanie covering your usual patrols. I should be able to handle this on my own.” he looked at each of them, “It’s going to be a busy night, so I want everyone on their toes. You get a call for help, go, you hear nothing stay on track.”

Damian frowned, but didn’t argue further. With that Bruce got to laying out a more detailed plan for the night, with Jason chiming in on where he and Tim would be and what they’d be doing. It looked like they’d be together, keeping an eye on and recording everything that went down. They were to plant trackers on the shipment and, if they had the chance, follow it to its destination. And with that, all that was really left to do was get ready. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
